


De-confusion

by michaely, Veronica_Lake



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Actions, Additional minor pairings, F/F, Friendship, Love, PTSD, Police Academy, Revenge, Slow Burn, alternative universe, and Consequenses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 162,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaely/pseuds/michaely, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veronica_Lake/pseuds/Veronica_Lake
Summary: When Max Caulfield was a sophomore at high school, one of her schoolmates was murdered. Due to the sloppy police work, the killer has never been convicted.The image of death body she found hasn’t stopped haunting her ever since. Two years after the graduation she realises, she has to move on and step out of the shadow she has been living in for years. She decides no culprit is going to escape the punishment ever again. Not on her watch.  Hard work and preparations bring the fruit and eventually, she’s accepted for Academy of Law enforcement, Crime science and Police training.Does she have what it takes, though? Does any of her Academy classmates, 8 students of the special program for elite police investigators? Or are they predestined to fail? And their own demons will be stronger than their determination to make the world a better place.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Victoria Chase, Victoria Chase/undisclosed character
Comments: 276
Kudos: 66





	1. A Double-edged Sword

**Max Caulfield**

**Monday, September 16, Day 1, Year 1**

This was it. Day 1. A sunny one, to my liking. I turned the car right towards the driveway approaching a parking lot in front of the Academy of Law enforcement, Crime science and Police training. Simply known as an Academy. The place was full of vehicles which indicated finding a suitable spot isn’t going to be a piece of cake. I didn’t mind. I was early, anyway. 

_Before I go any further, I’d like to do a proper introduction. Max Caulfield, that’s my name. Never Maxine. In my past past, some nasty things had happened. The things that had screwed me beyond repair. Maybe you say, what a pussy you are, we all have something in the past that screwed us. Nasty little something. Well, maybe you’re right. But before you decide, hear my story first. Not about those things. About how I have come a long way from being lost and confused about everything, to understanding who I really am, what I want and with who I belong. Although looking at the gory mess around, at my blood-soaked hands, maybe it’s taken me too long._

Anyway, back to the Academy. Where the first step on my journey to deconfusion started.

Looking around, the excitement beat every doubt. It was still hard to believe I was accepted on my first try. Of course, it wasn’t that difficult to be accepted for a regular nine months of police training. Although the ultimate goal of mine was different. I applied for the special three years long program. The rumour had it that was extremely rare to be successful at first shot. That many tried twice or even more times. Because there were only eight free spots in this specialised program, I decided to study. I would say there was no denying I had done everything in my power to do my best. I had been preparing for the entrance exam for almost a year. But not everything could be learnt. Gaining sufficient knowledge was the easiest part. Increasing the stamina and resilience to pass the endurance test was the hardest. And to be sure my psychological evaluation won’t count me out instantly was impossible. According to results, I had passed all of those tests. And somehow, I also had overcome the last obstacle: Professor Heywood, the former elite police investigator, the supervisor and creator of this unique study program. There were more than eight candidates that met vocational, physical and psychological requirements. But the last part of the exam was a personal interview with the professor, and he solely handpicked the chosen eight. On the interview, he had asked me about my reasons to study this program and recommended to be honest. _As a former police investigator,_ he had said, _I might know a thing or two about recognising a fraud._ I had believed him. There had been no point in lying. So, I had spoken freely, although briefly and thought it’d been over. But had had no regrets. When the letter had come at the beginning of the summer, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Dad had only wished me luck. Mum had hard times to hide her disapproval. She’d desired for everything to stay the same. Safe. But what was safe, really? My life before I had decided to come here? The numbness? The endless void?

After graduation, I had started to work part-time in photo atelier, still living with my parents. That’s what mum saw as safe. To be truth I hadn’t had many ambitions (none) and photography was the only thing I knew a bit about. Dad would even give me a job in his Architecture firm, eventually, if I desired. (I didn’t, architecture never had been my thing). One way or another mum couldn’t be happier that instead of taking a risk to get corrupted by tricky and dangerous college life, I’d stayed home with them. As much as her reasons to be much more overprotective than usual mothers were justified, I couldn’t say I didn’t feel suffocated by that from time to time.

So what had happened before graduation, in high school? What had made mum treat me like a porcelain doll?

When I’d been a sophomore one of my schoolmates, senior girl, had been murdered. And it’d been one of the reasons why I’d become numb and extremely uninterested in the outside world. Thus, the photo atelier part-time job had seemed like a blessing for mum. And at the moment for me, too. She had me close, so I was safe in her eyes. And I could stay numb and uninterested forever because I hadn’t needed to care about anything. 

Fortunately, two people in this world hadn’t considered such life as the best choice for me. Rachel Amber, the most unexpected friend I’ve ever gained. And my grandpa Joe. Rachel couldn’t do a lot of pep-talking when having successful career hundreds of kilometres away in Amsterdam. But grandpa Joe had done an excellent job. Slowly and tentatively, he had begun encouraging me to start living again. And It had worked and made me wonder if taking pictures of married couples on their twentieth anniversary, and old ladies with their pets or playing video games all night was really the life I wanted. And then he’d died, and we’d figured he’d been hiding the severe cardiac condition from all of us. That’s when I’d woken up. He’d been trying his best to push me out of my comfort zone until he still could. Everything had worked eventually. Two weeks ago, I’d moved here to Hauge a town not far from Amsterdam, also known for Academy of Law enforcement, Crime science and Police training. The place where best police officers were trained. And now I could just hope Grandpa Joe and Rachel had been right about me and I had what it takes and will learn how to swim before I sunk.

So, after a couple of minutes driving around the Academy parking lot, one place fitting just for my Volkswagen Polo appeared in my line of sight. Well, it could be less narrow, but it wasn’t something that could get me out of sorts. I pulled in between two cars, being careful to leave enough space on the driver side to get out when leaving none on passenger one. I took my time. There was no rush. To be honest with you, a part of me wasn’t that thrilled to embark on this ground-breaking experience. The part which wasn’t eager to meet new people. The part that neither enjoyed socialising nor considered interacting with others necessary. It was significantly quieter than the part _I was accepted for the program I so desperately wanted to attend_ , but not completely silent. I glanced at the main Academy building and found it impressive. The structure was embedded into the rockface and made of stone and earth to blend in, it looked like a miniature neighbourhood, arranged as a series of blocks set out in two clusters. From Hauge downtown, it might appear quite small, but once you were here on the top of the hill, the scale of the whole complex definitely surprised you. I was glad dad bought me a car, and I didn’t need to walk here or commute. It was probably the place with the highest altitude in the whole country. And Academy dorms weren’t located in the area, due to the lack of space perhaps. They were at King’s College campus, ten minutes’ drive away. It would take 20 with tram, I guessed and an hour on foot. Still, I was more than grateful for dad's resolution to buy the Volkswagen Polo. I turned off the engine but didn’t release the firm grip of the steering wheel, yet. 

I exhaled “Suck it up, Max. You can do this!!” And despite the enthusiasm, I realised I sounded awkward. “Or not,” I added and laughed at my pathetic attempt to do the encouraging speech. Narrow parking spots wasn’t my sore spot. I didn’t love them, but I could handle them. On the other hand, social interactions… ...and also water soaking my shoes, for that matter. Those were always close to being a pain in the ass for me. And speeches. “Maybe speeches don’t work for me,” I spoke again and sounded much more like Max I knew. I finally left the steering wheel be and reached for the passengers' seat compartment. 

“Sour candies, hell yes.” I shriek happily. Those were better than any speech than any remedy. I chuckled. I put one into my mouth and chewed it with vigour. The feeling of relief came imminently. My face wrinkled as the aftermath of sour taste on the sides of my tongue. For some, it could come as unpleasant, but I loved the sensation that this particular flavour always brought to me. It reminded me of Grandpa Joe, who always had some sour candies to soothe my infantile troubles like scraped knees, Bambi’s mother’s death, and such. When I had been down in the dumps, he’d always had kind words, warm embrace to offer and sour candy. That’s why this particular candy made me feel safe and sound. It helped me to believe every problem have a solution somewhere when we are patient enough, and every obstacle can be overcome. Reversed Advanced version of Pavlov reflex. I guessed. Of course, even with my PTSD mostly dormant, I was still taking Stilnox from time to time. When I needed to. When the sleep couldn’t come easy. Usually after rainy days. And Lorazepam, also. Rarely. Fortunately, last time I needed one was almost two years ago on Grandpa Joe’s funeral. It had been freaking raining the whole night. The ground had been soaked with water. Although not going hadn’t been an option. Besides a pill of Lorazepam wasn’t any monster in my eyes. Of course, the sour candies placebo effect was a preferred occurrence for me, but it wasn’t always possible. My condition was a fact. Unalterable end of the equation. A couple of years ago, every variable in this equation had changed. I had changed. And even when it hadn’t been a pleasant change, there was no denying I’ll never be the same again. And that alongside my mild social anxiety a not so mild danger of panic attack when my shoes get soaked with water became a permanent resident in my head. The sour candy wholly dissolved in my mouth, and I relished a burst of confidence. I was here because there was no place in the world where I wanted to be more. I was accepted for the most prominent and most challenging program for future police officers. A that was freaking something. I opened the door of Volkswagen Polo enthused about my new carrier and…

“Shit, Fuck. Holy mother of Gawd.”

A second before my Converse touched the ground desecrated by a pool of water, my thoughtful eye spotted this wretched occurrence, and my brain ordered me to retreat back to the car. I didn’t even realise it had been raining yesterday. According to the national centre for atmospheric research, Hauge was the place with fewer rainy days in the whole country. _Fuck_. The one place with a puddle in the entire Academy area had to appear on the spot where I parked my car. Well, life obviously had funny ways how to sneak up on me. A few deep breaths and look at the Leeuwinnen bright orange football scarf wrapped around the rear-view mirror was a good start how to calm down. Then reciting Women’s EURO 2017 final squads settled me enough to make a decision. The first day in Academy was not a suitable day to prove how brave I am and face that puddle. I needed to move a car elsewhere. Preferable to the place where my shoes weren’t in the risk of getting wet. I clutched the gear stick and moved it to the reverse position. My still a bit unsettled mind didn’t pay much attention to the rear-view mirror anymore when I stomped on the accelerator. And switched to the brake immediately. The dull, heavy sound behind me indicated VW Polo met a lesser object. 

“Jesus H. Christ. Oh, my Gawd. I maimed someone. I am supposed to serve and protect, and I maimed someone on my first day in Academy.” I gasped in horror and reluctantly turn my head. There was nothing to be seen behind the rear window.

“Come on, Max. Get out and check it!” I scolded and stuffed another sour candy into my mouth. After a couple of chews, I opened the driver door and made an acrobatic manoeuvre to avoid the puddle when leaving the car. There was a Vespa on the ground behind it. And a young man. He was wrestling with the bike and his own body but stood up, eventually.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll pay for the repairs. I should be more careful. Sorry.” The flow of words was coming from his mouth, and I just glared at him in awe. He was apologising. To me. I almost run him over, and he was apologising. Bonkers. 

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” I stopped his rampant rambling, and if not petrified that I could injure this poor guy I would definitely laugh about the ridiculousness of this situation. 

“Yes. I’m great. Perfect. Excellent. Getting a real kick out of this day.” He adjusted his helmet and got over excited again. 

“So, can you manage from here?”

“Yeah, absolutely. And about the rear fender--”

“Don’t worry about it, it has been scratched already.”

“You’re sure, I can---” 

“It’s fine, really,” I reassured him once more ready to dismiss this conversation. 

“Oh, my giddy aunt, look at that tight whip.”

The boy pointed to the probably overly expensive sports car that parked near us and turned to me eagerly. I wondered if he could have an ADHD or just got an impression that because I almost run him over, we shared a bond of some kind. And this bond entitles him to share his opinions about the ugly sports car with me.

“It’s Bentley New Continental GT V8.” I didn’t know a single shit about these matters. For me, it was just a device that helps you move from one place to another. But even I knew this Bentley car didn’t belong here, to the Academy parking place. It must cost the fortune.

“Well if you hurry, maybe you can manage to be hit by that car instead of my old piece of trash.” I resumed in a tone that suggested our random encounter just ended. Whether he wished to continue or not, my ringing phone ceased his effort. I took it from my back pocket and felt a peculiar mix of excitement and sadness when recognised who’s the caller.

“Hi, Rachel.” I gushed and let the good spirit beat the sentiment. She sounded equally enthused. Rachel Amber. She had been a senior when the tragedy had struck. I had been a sophomore. We had had practically nothing in common back then. I’d been a socially awkward high school nobody, and she’d been a queen bee dating a rebel girl from her class. It was a moot point for me if what we shared now was typical friendship. However, the fact that the dead girl on the floor of Science Lab in the pool of water and blood had made our lives intertwined forever, was undeniable.

Rachel was talking about some guy who she met recently, Frank or something. And his dog. And the robe she bought for a date. Mundane things. I opened the trunk and took out the bag with school stuff. I had to smirk knowing what Rachel was doing. She wanted to cheer me on my first day. She always made me feel normal, but at the same time, she understood why I wasn’t. 

_“What about you, hun?”_

She asked eventually. I closed the trunk telling her about my great dorm room, excited about no roommate necessity. I described my tasty breakfast. Waffles and bacon. And I also admitted, without an excessive amount of emotions what happened with the pool of water next to my car and the guy I almost maimed because of it. Of course, only after I checked thoroughly that he’s not anywhere near any longer. 

_“Well, too bad it wasn’t some hot lesbian chick you almost run over. It could be a great beginning of a cheesy love story.”_

She heard me, teased me softly, and she didn’t panic or overreacted. She cared but wasn’t overprotective like mum and dad. Especially mum. That’s why I know I could tell her anything. And it actually helped that she just listened without having hysterical outburst how I immediately need to see my shrink because of some stupid puddle. And when she was convinced the situation required medical intervention, she didn’t hesitate to suggest it gently without making any fuss about it.

“Rachel, you know I’m not exactly the love story type.” I chuckled and leaned to the Volkswagen Polo. My eyes slid to the red sports car couple of meters away.

_“I know a perfect girl for you.”_

She explained how this makeup artist, the new addition to the crew of the TV show she starred, could be a perfect match for me. My attention would be in risk to falter even without soap opera drama that started to unwind in front of my eyes.

A tall blond barbie girl, probably my age, with classy pixie haircut got out of that Porsche, Ferrari or whatever the car was called in a hurry. She looked excessively elegant in her grey fitting skirt and burgundy colour shirt. Don’t this little knowledge about burgundy let confuse you. The fashion has always been a mystery to me, to put it mildly. I only knew the name of the colour because of Rachel’s favourite lipstick. My eyes were drawn to the blond barbie, especially to her legs in burgundy heels, perfectly harmonised with her shirt. Even without being excited about clothes and stuff, I knew those heels were unique. I bet they had own name compounded at least from three words. Something like Jimmy Some-Extravagant-Surname Passionate Shoes. I could doubt the reason behind the desire to give a piece of wardrobe such names. What I couldn’t deny was that heels made the blond barbie girl’s legs mesmerising. Actually, I believed those were the most beautiful legs I’ve ever seen. Although even such impeccable legs couldn’t help their owner to escape destiny.

An upset man in his late twenties or early thirties who hopped off the car caught up with her in no time and seized the hold of girl’s hand. He bore an equal amount of style. Even I could appreciate that he was handsome by all means. I didn’t plan to but started to wonder what could cause a rift between such a fairy-tale couple, anyway. Prince Charming pulled his Lady Impeccable into his embrace, and I re-evaluated my initial suggestion that there was a rift between them. The way he hugged her, the way she relaxed in his arms, it was pure love. What made her sad and him concerned was outside this connection, not between them. The moment was becoming too intimate, yet I couldn’t make myself to cease the staring. 

_“Max, are you there?”_

Rachel’s voice saved me from becoming a total creep and made me turned away from the blond couple. 

“Uh-huh. I was just… I saw a nice sports car and got carried away by its beauty.”

 _“Sportscar, huh? And does this sports car have nice legs?”_ Rachel saw right through me. That’s why I didn’t attempt to lie.”

“The most marvellous.”

 _“So, I thought. Listen, Max. I gotta go. But you can call me anytime. You know that, don’t you_?” She said like she was saying every single time we called knowing I’ve never done and never going to. It has only been her who kept in touch.

“Yeah, sure thing, Rachel. I promise I will.” I claimed as I always did, already knowing it was a lie.

_“Love you, bye.”_

“Bye.” 

I ended the call and put the phone in the back pocket of my jeans. Before I was ready to cross the green between the parking place and the Academy building, I peered to the spot where a little drama took place a moment ago. The sports car was leaving. And the barbie girl with terrific legs was nowhere to be seen. Which was actually good news. There was no need for any more distractions today. I took three deep breaths and looked around. No puddles at sight. An excellent start. I thought and strolled towards the Academy. When I was on a top of the outside stairs, a wave of energy found its way around people coming in. And caught in the momentum she had no chance to avoid me because I was coming from the side. The blond barbie girl. She dashed into me.

The marble stairs weren’t falling sharply, and also there weren’t too many of them. Five at most. But rolling down would definitely be a harrowing experience. And humiliating. But she prevented it. In the last moment possible, blond barbie steadied herself and clutched my shoulders firmly. From the edge of the staircase precipe, I was pulled back right into her. Into her chest, to be precise. It was a strange feeling, mostly uncharted by me. But I was sure it started to well inside me. The lust. Her scent was captivating. The light, delicate touch of pomegranate mixed with something dark and outright erotic. Even if this didn’t make me shiver from tip to toe, the other thing definitely would. The height difference between the two of us meant that my face was dangerously close to her cleavage. And oh, girl, what a view it was. Divine. She wasn’t that kind with the necessity to enhance her physical attractiveness and femininity. Not by any means. But if by any chance someone wasn’t stunned by her beauty before, this view must make him. Her. Them. Everyone. Her breasts were perfect. Full and firm and… I was staring at them with no shame, I realised and lift my gaze up. To her lush lips.

“Bonkers!” I blurted, forcing myself to look higher, where I should be looking from the very beginning. Our eyes finally met. It did not surprise me at all, that I found the shade of green in hers absolutely enthralling. 

“Huh?” She gaped at me but didn’t seem to hear me or catch me ogling her cleavage. Her grip of my shoulders loosened, but I wasn’t released ultimately. It brought me unexpected pleasure. Her closeness. Such a peculiar pleasure that suspicion this whole thing wasn’t real crossed my mind. With my PTSD flashbacks, on a few highly stressful occasions, I wasn’t able to tell the difference between real and unreal. Although there was no chance, this happening was PTSD related. Because it was absolutely delightful.

“I gotta go,” I said eventually peaking to the slender fingers around my shoulders. I wasn’t 100% eager to leave, but I couldn’t take advantage of her current distress forever. The distress probably caused by whatever was threatening the relationship with red sports car driver I’d seen with her sooner. So more I lingered the more I put myself on the risk. 

“Yeah. Me, too.” She reacted blankly and untouched me briskly. In no time, she was gone. Fortunately, it was without a doubt, she was far far away from noticing my strange infatuation with her or my sole existence. I didn’t need to worry. I dared to breathe again, and the air without the touch of pomegranate filled my lungs.

“Eventful.” I muttered, “and I didn’t even enter the building, yet” and added finally doing so. The entrance hall was crowded and lively. When I was passing two sturdy looking, heavily armoured security guards, both on each side of automatic sliding doors, I reached for the black biometric armband around my wrists subconsciously. It vibrated softly. The sensors, two subtle metal bars one on my right, other on my left noted my presence. I had obtained the armband ten days ago in the administration office when meeting with a counsellor. It was bound to me personally, and its purpose was to monitor my presence on classes. Also, without it, I wouldn’t be eligible to enter the premises with further authorization. Happy to have one I let two heavy armoured guards behind me and proceeded down the hall

I had checked the official study app for zillion times, so I hoped I will have no trouble to find a classroom. Most of the people swarming around were wearing uniforms. They were probably the recruits for the regular program that started three weeks ago. Unlike my future classmates and me, they were already considered as a part of the corps. I’ll only gain that privilege if I make it through the first year. But when these regular recruits started with police trainee rank, if successful I’m going to be promoted straight to a constable at the beginning of my second year. After a bit of walking around, I found classroom No. 22. It should be it. When I entered, the armband vibrated softly again. I hoped it meant it was the right one, then. The space was opposite of vast entrance hall. I counted that there was enough room for twenty people max. There were ten desks around. Each for two people but only four of them in front seemed operational because remaining six looked turned off. The built-in monitor screen and related interface were inactive, tilted down. One desk was occupied with two of my possible classmates. A pretty auburn-haired girl, tall and athletic and the dark brown hair lanky boy. Looking at them, they were complete opposites. She cheered me with happy _Hi,_ and everything about her genuinely spoke she was that nice girl next door. The boy, he just nodded indifferently. Another occupant of the classroom who I almost missed was professor Heywood. He was sitting at the front desk hid behind the big screen his fingers nimbly interacting with the interface. Which was peculiar. Not because he wore huge glasses with dark lenses, that were no doubt some cutting edge technology. But because from what I knew, professor Heywood had a very limited ability to see. He had been injured. Not sure if in line of duty or elsewhere but because of that his vision had been deteriorating slowly.

“Good day, professor Heywood.” I greeted him tentatively.

“Good day, Max Caulfield.” He replied still fully focused on his screen. Damn. Did he remember me? Did his special glasses tell him who I was? Did I want to be distracted by that? No, I didn’t, so I took a seat at one of the empty desks that were in an active mode. Not long after the other people showed up. Giant muscular guy with sturdy built. And then a punk rock princess. One didn’t have to be a detective to figure out she liked black. The distinctive black eye lines, black leather boots and an entirely black outfit told the tale. According to her pale skin and not so black eyebrows I’d say her dark black hair was dyed. Which was completely cool, I totally agreed that one could wear whatever hell they want and do whatever they desire with their bodies. But if I meet her anywhere but here, I’d rather expect her to go to the demonstration not patrolling the streets. Staying true to her nature she found her place next to the muscular guy.

The other newcomer was the boy who I almost run over. He went right straight to me, and it was clear what he intended.

“No.” I was even more apparent that it wasn’t an option.

“You don’t even--”

“Whatever you want, the answer is no.” I cut him off again.

“Okay.” He said but sat next to me, anyway.

“What are you doing?”

“You said whatever I want, the answer is no.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I wanted to ask if you prefer me to sit anywhere but here and you said no.”

I laughed, he kept his wits about himself, I had to give him credit. “Fine, I guess you earn your right to sit here.” I nodded. Perhaps it wouldn’t be terribly bad If I had some ally in here. But I planned to define the terms and conditions of our alliance quickly.

“Warren Graham. The geek.” He offered his hand.

“Max Caulfield.” I didn’t shake it. “The one who you should definitely not try to hook up with.”

“Well a moment before, you thought you don’t want to sit with me and look where we are now.”

“Okay, Warren Graham, the geek. Listen carefully, because I’m only going to say this once. We can sit together. Be friendly, supposedly. Hell, if you are the real geek as you claim and by any chance know a good tank, we can play Scrolls of War together and go on the raid. But that’s it. I’m a loner. Eraser. If you cross these boundaries, you’ll stop existing for me.”

“Geez. You have these things settled pretty much.”

“I do. So, what’d you say?”

“Okay. I’m in. No crush harbouring, I promise. Maybe strictly platonic.”

“You can harbour anything you want if you stick to the rules.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

In the meantime, another guy arrived. I bet for most of the girls only his presence could bring a wave of arousal. Tall, handsome and smug. Hopefully, I’ll never need to work with him. Because I found him repulsive. So, with this guy who looked like he just came from hair commercial shooting, there were seven of us. The class was supposed to start a minute ago. Professor Heywood didn’t show any intention to begin, yet still covered behind the screen. We must be waiting for the last one, that was for sure. I looked around once more and came to the realisation none of us looked like a future elite police investigator. The geek boy Warren? Me? Cheerleader girl and Skater boy, sitting in front of us? The punk rock princess and a huge bunch of testosterone? Or the Calvin and Klein underwear model, who arrived a moment ago? We looked more like a social experiment than the elite class. And then she came.

“Fashionably late.” Said the person who entered the classroom with ease in her voice. If I’d come late to my first class on the very first day, I’d be ashamed as hell. She? She didn’t show the slightest hint of shame or fear of punishment. That’s precisely what I would expect from a girl like her. If I hadn’t seen her before. But the unrest from before was long forgotten when there was a chance for her to shine. The barbie girl from the parking lot took a seat next to the handsome guy. Professor Heywood finally left his screen and stood up.

“Three questions. Be short and precise. Or not. Who am I to tell you what to do?” His voice was firm and his built impressive, even when he wasn’t in active duty for quite a time.

“What’s your name? Why you choose to study this program? Do you consider yourself as a person with strong morals? You first.” He pointed at my neighbour. 

“Graham. I mean Warren. I mean. Graham is also my name. I mean. Damn. Just call me Warren. Hi, everybody.”

I swear this guy Warren was even more out of place than I was. He rambled forever about how his high school classmate had been bullied and Warren pranked these bullies using simple mentos/coke chemical reaction. And that’s how he figured his passion for science will probably not bring him a Nobel prize but could be pretty useful. And since this unique program was heavily focused on crime scene investigation and scientific aspect of police work, he got attached. Sometimes he sounded cute, sometimes awkward, but most importantly, his rambling seemed endless. And professor Heywood just let him despite that _be short_ recommendation. At least I had time to work on my answers. Something about how everyone who commits the crime should face the consequences. And about how police investigator should not involve emotions into the investigation, just collect every possible evidence and let the judge decide. I kind of prepared it before and it was a short version of my real reason to be here. Which was unresolved and unpunished murder of Chloe Price, Rachel’s girlfriend. I had told professor Heywood on the interview. But I didn’t plan to reveal it to any of these people. 

The other one who spoke was the handsome guy with a lot of potential to become a model. I bet he knew more about hair products than I will ever know. According to his words, his name was Zachary Riggins. He explained that he’s coming from a police family and being a member of this family means it’s an honour to serve and protect. Which would make him a perfect candidate for an outstanding police officer. But the way he talked about it couldn’t convince anyone. His expression was bored, his speech bland and his real intention to be here unrevealed. I didn’t doubt that. When the outgoing girl, Dana Ward took a turn I got confused. She started with _I’m here because of my boyfriend,_ and it made me so perplexed, I didn’t catch the rest of her introduction. I must admit I expected more from my classmates. Well, of course not everyone found a dead body with a possible murderer standing above it as I did. The murderer who was never convicted, due to the sloppy police work. But at least some enthusiasm and passion for police work would be great.

And then what really blew me away was the consecutive speech of the blond barbie girl.

“Victoria Chase. I look smoking hot in uniform. And no.”

Those were her answers. It was short and conceited. The first quality of her statement, shortness was unexpected, second not so much. I’d bet she look smoking hot in anything. But no matter how unbiased I desired to stay, that speech made Victoria Chase looked like a plain self-centred bitch.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of essential for the carrier you choose? Following the moral compass?” Professor Heywood missed that her reason was she was looking hot in uniform but thank Gawd he pointed out how she almost glorified her lack of morals. It came out like this was some reality show for her where more controversy meant more popularity.

“In all honesty morals are a construct of society. Thus fallible. Neither can be essential nor objective.” She replied calmly.

“Can you give us an example?” He insisted. She subtly rolled her eyes as if it bothered her but continued eventually.

“Was Jean of Arc a heroine who stood against oppressors who invaded her country or was she a delusional heretic? Were her prosecutors the righteous ones or simple murderers? Did Donald Trump really intended to make America great again, and should he stand alongside other Founding fathers? Or is he a narcissistic moron who should be judged for treason? Is Geert Wilders a plain fascist or right-wing liberal, the saviour of Netherlands’ national identity?” 

“Interesting. What do you consider as essential then for a police officer if not a strong morals?”

“With all due respect, professor Heywood, you said we are supposed to answer three questions. I already answered four. Besides, surely the others are impatiently waiting to express themselves, too.”

“Fair point, Victoria Chase, fair point.” He finally let her be and asked the guy named Trevor Yard, presumably Dana’s boyfriend, to give his answers. I didn’t remember anything from what the Trevor guy said. Because Victoria’s words lingered in my head. Could it be that she was the only person in here who had her shits together and will either become a police paragon or vigilante? Or was it only pose, and she liked it when all eyes were on her. Before I could come to a conclusion, I felt soft nudge into my ribs. It came from Warren. And I realised the whole class is staring at me, except for Victoria Chase, whose nose was buried in her phone. And then I got it and stood up clumsily.

“Max Caulfield. “ Yes, that was my name. Good start. What was the other question? _Why you choose to study this program?_ Why? My reasons are my own. I reminded myself, but I had a short speech prepared, hadn’t I?

“So, you’re scared? Of your reasons? Or you fear to tell us?”

“What?”

Fuck. I lost it. I must say it loud. I fucking did say it loud. Not only in my head. That _my reasons are my own._ How could I be such pussy? I got my PTSD under control mostly but damn; I still wasn’t able to manage my social anxiety completely. However, I didn’t understand why he pushed. He freaking knew my reasons. He had asked in interview. I had given him the shortest version possible, but it contained the fact that fear had tried to control me but hadn’t overcome me when I had found Chloe Price’s maimed body. Hmm. Maybe he forgot. Perhaps he didn’t care about this class. It was a job for him or more like a joke. Shit! I needed to think. My hands were sweating, I was sweating and chewing the insides of my cheek. Damn it! That blond barbie girl Victoria said she looked good in uniform and got away with it. There must be a way out for me, too. Before I came with a rebound, professor Heywood spoke again. Not to me, though, to all of us.

“Fear can help you if you understand it. If you acknowledge that fear is always lying to you, its presence can be a great advantage. But you cannot let yourself to be consumed by it. In difficult situations trusting to your fear is equal to death.”

I reached for my pocket. If I remembered correctly, I had a pack of… Yes, they were there. The sour candies. I put one into my mouth and let my brain cool down. _Just accept facts, Max. Evaluate them and accept them. No breakdown, no self-pity. Acceptance._ The sour taste dissipated slowly, and the world around started to exist again.

“Well…” I stared at professor Heywood not sure if he’s actually aware of it with his big dark lens glasses. I stared at him and accepted the fact the I basically screwed up on my first day and couldn’t save it with I look good in uniform, or fashionably late. I shrugged my shoulders the same way the old man in a red jumper, who became the most famous meme. “Guess I’ll die.” 

It just slipped my mouth. Was a self-deprecating joke my last line? Or did it save me? Professor Heywood was deadpan. The class burst into laughter, except for Victoria Chase, who was fully focused on the screen of her phone. Hell, I was very tempted to join them, only fear of being kicked out at once stopped me. But so what? If professor Heywood didn’t want me here, he shouldn’t pick me in the first place. And if he changed his mind, well I had to accept it. He took his time to react. I couldn’t see his eyes, but his face was super straight. 

“You know what, Max Caulfield. Don’t die just, yet.” Corners of his mouth went up, eventually. Just the tiniest bit, however. “It would be a terrible reference for me as a teacher if I lost a student on the very first day. Anyway, let’s continue with you, the black colour lover.” He pointed to the punk-rock princess.

“Kristine Prescott.” She stood up high, and I felt a small portion of relief I was finally out of the spotlight. “In my family, you’re either the best or the last. I’m the best. I’m here because I want people like my father to end up in jail. I want to make sure, that no sleazy lawyer can stand up and call any evidence into question just because a corrupted cop did sloppy work. And yes, I do have strong morals, unlike this barbie girl. Morals infallible. That’s what helps people to go on when surrounded by shady scums, like my father.”

“Though she be but little, she’s fierce. Just keep in mind, Kristine Prescott, what will happen when one desires too much of the good thing. “ Said professor Heywood.

“I am thought. You can bet your money on it. I am. “She claimed and took a deep breath, ready to continue about how thought she was, probably. I wondered if she realised that she overstepped a bit with her garnished speech and he actually didn’t praise her but pointed out that not all that glisters is gold.

“Maybe there is a method to her madness.” 

Victoria Chase did. And she didn’t even look up from her phone. As if none of what was going around was worthy of her attention. Why she spoke, then? Kristine Prescott was taken aback. As eloquent as she was a moment before, now, she was left speechless. Her eyes, however, brought an unambiguous message. Blond barbie girl will be given a chance to gain Kristine Prescott’s respect. But she’ll have to try harder.

“What on the earth are they talking about.” Dana Ward, _I am here because my boyfriend is_ , muttered. Trevor Yard, the boyfriend, only shrugged.

“Could be some secret code for elite police investigators. Or the way how Regina George clones are destroying their opponents.” Warren whispered and made Dana chuckle.

“It’s Shakespeare.”

“Huh?” Warren gaped at me. _Fuck, Max. Have some self-control and don’t say everything that comes to your mind loud._ I scolded myself but elaborated, anyway.

“They quoted lines from Shakespeare’s plays. Professor Heywood and the _Regina George clone._ And I actually believe she offered the truce.”

Warren smirked subtly and probably wanted to add something more. Something a bit awkward but equally funny but professor’s Heywood voice interrupted his action.

“The last man standing, you are. Share your thoughts.” He addressed the huge athletic guy sitting next to Kristine Prescott. 

“Kristine Prescott.” The guy spoke in the firm voice.

“That’s a peculiar coincidence that we have two persons with an exact same name in the class, isn’t it students?” Our mentor stated dryly

“Is Sean Prescott your father?” The athletic guy asked Kristine Prescott.

“Would you kindly tell us your name, young man?” Professor Heywood added with no hint of annoyance but in the tone that suggested this request should not be opposed.

“Sorry, professor. Drew. My name is Drew North.” Said Drew North with a small voice and turned back to Kristine Prescott. When speaking to her, the confidence was back. “So, is he your father?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Well, in that case, I am with her. I’m here for the same reason as her.” I did not know who Sean Prescott was or what he has done, but I was pretty sure Drew North didn’t mean it as a compliment to Kristine Prescott. “I prepared a bit different speech, but it would be quite like Trevor’s and this one also fits like a glow.” He concluded and faced punk princess again. “And I must say I will not sit with any acquaintance of Sean Prescott.” He was about to stand up, but unexpected intervention stopped him. Professor’s hand clutched his shoulder. Drew stopped in his tracks, and from the painful expression on his face, I bet the strength of the grip was close to bone-crushing.

“Miss Prescott, Drew North, is your sister in arms. No matter what her surname is. From today, you’re in this together. All of you.”

“Let him go, professor. If he thinks he’s better than me. If he thinks he knew shit about my life. I don’t care.”

“I don’t need to know anything about your life. I know enough about Sean Prescott.”

“Oh, I bet you do, because you were there when he…” To everybody surprise, their argument wasn’t interrupted. They bickered for good ten minutes without not giving a damn there should be class going. Until Victoria Chase looked up from her phone only for the second time today and raised her hand. Professor Heywood finally ceased the interaction and bid her to talk.

“No offence professor Heywood but you let them fight for eternity. You are a teacher, aren’t you supposed to watch over us?” I expected him to be annoyed that she dared to question him, but he actually smiled.

“Yes, I am a teacher. Thus, I’m not supposed to watch over you but teach you. I won’t be there with you on the crime scene. I can only teach you what to do. You’ve just lost ten minutes when you could learn something worthy and instead got drag into meaningless chatter. All of you.”

“Only two of them.” Warren blurted.

“You could stop it. Point the discussion in the right direction. Yet, you didn’t.”

“But--”

“We all are humans. We make mistakes. We all have bad days. There are things that can cloud our judgement. None of us is flawless. That’s why, as a police investigator, you never walk alone. That’s why we work as a team. When one’s misguided the other steps in. When one’s down other lifts them up. We have to trust each other. But the thrust has to be built on both sides.” Well, technically, he was right. But why he hadn’t said it before Drew and Kristine almost started a world war? “And last but not least, the thrust has to be earnt. Not given.” Yeah, he totally should say that in the beginning.

Both Drew and Kristine looked like they needed to have a say in this matter, but professor zapped them.

“But whatever will happen, our opinion, our judgement has to be based on solid evidence. It’s the evidence that does not forget. It is not confused by the excitement of the moment. Physical evidence cannot be wrong, it cannot perjure itself, it cannot be wholly absent. Only human failure to find it, study and understand it, can diminish its value. Forget not! If you decide to strike without unshakable evidence, you’re always using a double-edged sword.”

Even when professor Heywood was emanating lots of eclectic emotions, his last words brought some more good points. That’s why I hoped it meant introduction was over and lecture will finally begin. I was wrong.

“Mr North, do you have any solid evidence of the despicable nature of Ms Prescott.”

“Her father is a--”

“You don’t, then.”

“My guts are telling--”

“Of course, it’s not a bad thing, to listen to your guts. But when you’re not able to find the evidence, the criminal will escape. No judge will prosecute a culprit because _your guts_ are telling you they are guilty.”

Professor Heywood concluded and packed his belongings. “I’ll email you an assignment, don’t even think about not fulfilling it. The class is over.”

“But there is an hour and a half left.” Kristine pointed in awe.

“I only can teach you when you are ready to learn. Today, none of you prove it. You have a week to think about what I said.”

“A week? But we had another two hours this afternoon.” Dana was even more surprised than Kristine.

“I’ll see you guys in a week. I hope you’ll be ready. If not, you’re out. Your scholarship will be cancelled, and you’ll no longer participate in this study program. Have a nice day.”

And then he was gone. Just like that. When I was ready to give him a chance, he only confused me more. What a mindfuck. What did I get myself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is purely fictional, and depiction of police work is not accurate. It has been altered for the purposes of the storytelling. Nevertheless, I would like to thank RP, who never turned me down when I had too many questions about his time in the corps.
> 
> The narrative takes place in Netherlands (Holland, Nederland, Países Bajos, whatever floats your boat). Initially, it was set in the random Western European country. However, I picked Netherlands, eventually because of a little detail in the story that will be revealed later. Also, there are no hills in NL, it’s perfectly flat :) So the hill in Hauge where Academy is situated is made-up.
> 
> And, as always, thx for reading.


	2. Goodbye Kitty

**Max Caulfield**

**Friday, September 20, Day 5, Year 1**

Day 5 and I still lived.

That was positive news. Upcoming self-defence class, not so much. This first week hadn’t been going exactly how I would like. The first day in here won’t be my favourite memory. On day 3, I had managed to set myself on fire in the lab. At least professor Palmer took it lightly and noted that when he said he hopes we are all fired up, he didn’t mean it literally. On day 4 on the shooting range, lost in thoughts, I absentmindedly grab a gun with my dominant but partly disabled right hand, and it slipped down. Everyone took a step away, death worried. It didn’t help my self-confidence, and my aim suffered. Which was such a waste because the shooting was actually one of the few things that didn’t make me edgy, anymore.

Like socialising, labs, puddles or physical activity. Rachel had had a recurring role in a legal drama. She played a police rookie who was killed in the shooting, eventually. She took the role with all seriousness and actually really learnt how to shoot and gain the gun license. And also taught me. Because honestly, I had been dreaded to even look at the firearm, before. But even when I was confident with a gun now, wary eyes of everyone else diminished it rapidly. Could I blame them after the lab fiasco? After my stuttering on day 1? So, so far, the only day without incident was day 2. But there were just a couple of law-related lectures our group absolved with other program’s students. And therefore I was practically invisible, no one asked me anything, and no one required anything. And now, I suspected self-defence class will hardly go without any trouble.

“Come one, Max. Give me some life.” Said Warren walking by my side, large sports bag dangling over his shoulder. 

Of course, I wasn’t joyful. The dread of a promise of the strenuous physical activity was almost equal to that of my social awkwardness, when around people. And dislike of puddles and labs. But even when I won’t supposed to end up a beat cop in the first line of defence against low-life criminals or Special Weapons and Tactics team brute, I needed to accept it was essential to have sufficient stamina and self-defence skill. It didn’t mean though, I had to like it.

“Because you are over the moon, aren’t you?” I teased. He looked pale. We left behind the track and field pitch, I was more familiar with I would desire (part of the entrance exams had taken place in there), and approached the sports complex, that was situated at the far side of the Academy area. As far as I knew there was a pool in there, standard work out gym, martial arts gym and also ice-skating rink. Every facility was available for free for students of Academy. 

“More like out of sorts.” Warren sighed when we went through the sliding doors, and the light buzz on my wrist reminded me of the armband. I was slowly getting used to it. “Will you please call my mom after the class. When my lifeless body will be thrown into the pit. Tell her I loved her.” And I was slowly getting used to Warren, too. And his humour that was so not funny sometimes It actually made me smile. 

“Don’t be dramatic, science guy.” I laughed. “We are going to get disgustingly sweat and stinky and probably extremely sore, tomorrow. But we’ll live.” I definitely needed to stay positive after the messy week.

“You’ll live. But me? Not so sure. If I’m going to be paired with those two testosterone giants, I’ll stand no chance.”

He was probably talking about Drew, who was a former athlete. Triathlon was his specialisation to be precise. But his promising career ended after a nasty knee injury at age 22. Dana, _I’m Trevor’s girlfriend_ had told me the other day. Actually, Dana was a lovely girl. A bit hyped and gossipy but also nice. She and Warren were the only ones who seemed normal in our class. Not touched by any kind of madness. And they were also only ones who noticed my existence outside my lapses of judgement and acted friendly. Which was cool even if I totally weren’t interested in making new friends. Their friendly behaviour was a good predisposition for not starting any feud in the future and just leaving me be.

Well, maybe Trevor was friendly, too but I couldn’t really tell. I didn't hear him talking once since Monday or doing anything, actually. So, he definitely wasn’t the second testosterone giant Warren mentioned. It must be Zachary. The son of the First commissioner, head of police. You can guess how I did know? Precisely, you’re not mistaken. Dana had told me. This Zachary guy didn’t have muscles as pumped as Drew, but he definitely rubbed me the wrong way. There was something about his smug grin, and I do not want to be here with you mobs expression. And part of me was also well aware of another attitude of his, that grind my gears. And it shouldn’t. Because it was stupid. I peered around the hall to make sure none of our classmates were around and turn back to Warren.

“Well, if you look at it that way. I can be pretty much beaten as well when paired with Kristine. What if she’ll come to the conclusion my VW Polo that is definitely not propelled by the electric engine is the primal source of all pollution.” I tried to encourage him and showed him he’s not alone with his dislike of any kind of P.E. classes. But to be true, it also worked for my own support. I didn’t expect to find an ally at the Academy so quickly. Yet, it seemed he was a good one. Not to mention, he respected the boundaries I set on the very first day. 

“Right, Ms I’m the Champion of the just. Who probably had no clue electricity needs to be generated somehow, too. And most of the electricity in the world is still produced by Fossil fuel power stations. So, the Carbon footprint is affected almost equally by electric cars as it is by diesel cars. You definitely won Max.” He smirked. “I see you there in a minute.” And pointed to the martial arts gym before he disappeared in the men’s locker room. 

Kristine Prescott had been as much agitated and easily triggered by any sign of iniquity through the whole week as she was on her first day. She was exactly that outspoken, straightforward person you either admire or hate. Nothing in between. Fortunately, I was probably too insipid for her taste which made it pretty easy to avoid her attention. Or rage. I slipped into the women's locker room, delighted Kristine wasn't at sight.

“Hi, Max.” Dana greeted me cheerfully, trying to get herself into the training pants.

“Hi, yourself.” I wanted to sound evenly enthusiastic, but the look of the ugly pants intervened. Probably every student in my class and I had been stocked by three sets of official Academy training gear and three sets of lab coats. First ones were for P.E. classes and second for Labs and eventually Anatomy. And we were obliged to wear them for Labs and for P.E. classes. No uniform, yet. In the program, I studied it wasn’t required until the second year of study. All of the clothes were stuffed in the black bags. I hadn’t checked them, yet. Maybe it was a good thing, to not know for the last moment possible I’m going to be seen around people in those.

“They’re horrendous, aren’t they?” Dana mostly stated rather than asked seeing my unsettled expression. “And that colour! My eyes are bleeding. I’m gonna look like a sack of potatoes.” She added. Before I could reply from two of us, I was in the imminent risk to be a sack of potatoes, a voice from the corner of the locker room interrupted us.

“You know, I can’t on the weekend. What about Fika after school today? That’s all I can offer. Sorry, babe.”

I couldn’t see the person speaking with someone on the phone. She was hidden behind the open locker door. Although, I knew who she was. And I couldn’t help but wonder what in the hell the FIKA was.

The door slammed, and she raised her hand with an armband to touch the small screen on it. After it clicked my insides twisted. And the wave of heat run through my whole body. With the same hand, she picked the small bag on the bench with a towel and a bottle of water in it.

“Alright. Love you, bye.”

Victoria Chase ended the call but didn’t stop staring on the screen. At the same time, she sauntered alongside us without any sign she noticed we were there. And then she was gone.

“Gosh. That girl creeps me out. She and her Fika. What a fuck is that?” Dana gasped and zipped the ugly army green hoodie with her nametag on it.

“She’s---” So many adjectives came to my mind. Only very few of them weren’t total opposites. “Strange.” I finished simply.

“You bet. And someone should tell her this is a police school, not Holland’s next top model contest.” Dana pointed, obviously missing my ongoing confusion. “Anyway. See ya. Don’t be late. I heard professor Amaya Jiwe is super tough. She fought in UFC. So no excuses.” She picked her stuff and let me alone in the empty locker room.

How it is possible that blond barbie girl made those army green repulsive sweatpants look exquisite on her? I had to wonder. She combined them with that weird shade of blue/green (turtoise? turquoise?) trainers and sports bandana of the same colour, and it worked. Holy, mother of Gawd, it worked. How it did work? And why in the bloody hell did I notice some two odd named colours matched?

I picked the vacant locker and before I started to undress, I synced it with my armband. Well, she was radiant, that was no doubt. And I had discovered a long time ago that I appreciated the women’s beauty. Victoria Chase had an excess of it. And that was it. Nothing else. Why it bothered me so much then, that she was probably one of those the worst entitled bitches in the world? It’s not like I desired to be her friend or anything. _Or anything? Really, Max? Just drop it._

I couldn’t be _anything_ with any girl. Definitely not with blond barbie bitch Victoria Chase. I put an army green sweatpants on and remembered Stella. The girl I had met in the park a couple of months ago. I had been jogging regularly when preparing for the entrance exam. She had been jogging, too there somewhere, without any clue about my presence. One day she had sprained her ankle. I had helped her stabilised it and called the cab that had driven her to the hospital. A couple of weeks later, she had recovered and returned to the jogging. There hadn’t been much talking at first. She just had been thankful. We had jogged together. Then I had accepted her invitation for coffee. It had been easy to hang out with her. Well, she had talked mostly, but it hadn’t felt like she was aggressively eloquent. Quite the opposite. She had liked Shakespeare and Stephen King, and she had been nice. The pleasant person. That’s why I hadn’t minded her intention to go a bit further. We had kissed. We had slept together a couple of times. It had been okay, I guess. Not great, not terrible. She had led I had followed. But then she started with these weird ideas about where WE should go on vacation in summer and what WE should buy for her mother’s birthday. It hadn’t taken long for me to find another park for jogging. I had cut her abruptly. It hadn’t been a nice thing to do, I admit. But she had scared the shit out of me. The thought she reveals the secrets of my past, that she’d like to _help me_ or pity me because of it, that thought had been unacceptable. No one will ever dig in there. Only Rachel and that’s because only she understood. 

So that’s why this silly blond barbie infatuation made absolutely no sense. She was obvious eye candy, but I would never sleep with her because she neither was a nice nor pleasant person. And importantly, she had no intention to sleep with me. Or become aware of my existence, for that matter. And even if anything mentioned above wasn’t a case and in some weird alternate universe, she’d be interested in seeing me I run away after the first discussion about where WE should go to eat. Because there was no WE. NO WE. Not with her, not with anyone in any universe. Problem solved.

“Max, self-defence class is starting in no time, buckle up!” I psyched up and picked a sour candy from the pocket of my undressed jeans. The relief came at once. Then I stuffed all my belongings into the locker. Except for the towel and bottle of water and waved the armband over the terminal on the locker. The door clicked, which meant it was closed. So, there was no point for me to linger. 

In the martial arts gym, all my classmates were already gathered on the bleachers. Warren talking with Trevor about black plague. Not sure if it was a videogame, a movie, or a real treat. Dana sat right next to Trevor, her head on his shoulder, and her eyes closed. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the black plague. Or the other conversation. Maybe I should rather call it dispute. Kristine (of course) was arguing with Drew that women are equally eligible to be part of the Special Weapons and Tactics Team a.k.a. S.W.A.T. Drew disagreed claiming women’s different constitution did not grant them enough stamina and resilience, and they’re also affected by hormonal cycle. Which means their mental stability could suffer because of it. 

“It’s just the fact. You’re the weaker sex. You’ve been born that way. It’s nothing offensive about it.” He claimed vigorously.

I looked to the mat in front of us where eight fully armoured S.W.A.T candidates, tough and resilient men suffered under the command of one tiny woman. Professor Amaya Jiwe presumably. Personally, I didn’t understand why any woman (which wasn’t eligible) or any man for that matter would like to become a S.W.A.T. member. From what I understood the main part of their job was to be stuck in some claustrophobic hole for hours waiting for a command. And when the command comes, they strike and destroy the threat in three seconds. THREE SECONDS. Not to mention their terminator armour was heavy as fuck. It must be truly nerve-racking. And sweat-producing. And boring. 

“You and your pussy boyfriends just can’t stand the idea that woman is as much capable to do anything you do. Or even do it better. That’s why women are not allowed to be a S.W.A.T. But we are not weak, and it’s going to change!”

Kristine spat and stuck the forefinger and the middle finger to Drew’s chest. In contrast with her harsh words, the touch was almost gentle.

“In your land of plain aggression, have it ever occurred to you,” Kristine’s rage was interrupted. Not by Drew, though, “that there is a legitimate reason women are not part of the S.W.A.T. units?”

Everyone’s eyes, including mine, went straight to the blond barbie Victoria, who until now was laying on the bleachers peacefully with her head on Zachary’s lap. 

“See even another woman agrees with me,” Drew responded happily. Victoria Chase just rolled her eyes. Something was telling me she was not about to agree with him.

“Well, come on! Tell me that reason, you cockmuncher. I don’t believe it exists. I bet you’d just say anything to get men’s attention.” 

Kristine went full justice warrior mode again. To my surprise, Zachary burst into laughter after the suggestion his blond barbie companion will defend men’s side because she loved penis and wanted to satisfy them. It came out odd. But then again didn’t everything about Victoria Chase came a bit bizarre? First losing her shits on the first day, then being an arrogant bitch, _who looks good in uniform,_ provoking. Then going back to silent mood. And now telling someone on the phone she loves them (probably the sports car driver) and then resting her head in Zachary’s lap. It was impossible to predict what she’s going to say. Or do.

“It’s a natural instinct for men,” she started a matter-of-factly, “to protect women.”

“Pff.” Kristine wasn’t convinced. Victoria didn’t care just continued in the same manner. 

“Evolution speaks to them. They are controlled by primitive impulses. They know there will be no humankind without women. So, they would not exist. When a woman is injured, the man feels the urge to abandon any task and help her. Therefore, it cannot be allowed that such situation would compromise the mission.”

Kristine opened her mouth but didn’t say a word. Victoria stood up and reach for her vibrating cell in the training pants pocket. Before she answered the call, she also burnt Drew’s view.

“This self-preservation instinct has nothing to do with bravery. It makes men ultimately selfish and weak. And easy to control. Thus, technically Drew North, men are the weaker sex, not women.” She smiled victoriously and left all of us to wonder about her words.

“Hi, love. You have ten seconds, so speak, quickly.” She said softly before she disappeared into the hall. 

I couldn’t help it and had to chuckle about Drew’s and Kristine’s expressions. So did Dana and Warren. But we at least did it subtly. Zachary, on the contrary...

“What are you laughing at?” Kristine waived her dyed black hair and stayed true to her nature, ready to spread her wisdom. 

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” He laughed even more. 

“You’re aware your slutty girlfriend is already chasing another cock out there.” She looked towards the hall.

“ _My girlfriend.”_ His chortle got out of control. “Victoria Chase chasing cocks” He laughed so hard he fell off the bleachers. 

“Class!” A sharp, strong voice of professor Jiwe put a stop to any other bleacher _festivities._ The S.W.A.T. guys lined up on the mat and stood steadily. In the sudden silence, the only sound heard in the gym were their extremely heavy breaths. 

“Good job today!” She smiled, and her no-nonsense attitude was replaced with warmness and pride. In that short moment, I couldn’t miss her delicate beauty.

“Keep up a good work. Dismissed.” She released them eventually when they caught a breath. So our time came. But frankly, I’d rather hear Drew and Kristine fighting for another two hours than experience what this woman was about to offer. Although it wasn’t an option. So, with the rest of my class, I headed to the mat slowly. Well, except for one. Victoria Chase stood aside, and the tallest S.W.A.T. candidate was probably flirting with her shamelessly. I didn’t see her face but he, without a helmet now, was enjoying himself greatly. 

“Class!” Professor Jiwe made her presence known once again. This time it was directed to us. “Line up!” 

We did. In a second. She wasn’t that muscular type who can crush watermelons with her thighs. Definitely not. Actually, I could imagine her in a tight classy dress, her long curly hair tamed with some advanced haircut, dancing at the ball. But right now, she was zillion light-years from such person. 

“One rule.” She stated. “I command, you obey.” From the way she voiced it, everyone understood that nothing of what she said or is going to say was up to discussion. Not even Kristine or Drew.

“You don’t like, you leave.” She added. “Now run, 20 rounds.”

Running was just the beginning. Then there were jumping jacks, burpees and squat jumps. And after thirty minutes of pure torture, we were allowed to drink. And then when our bodies were shaken entirely, professor Jiwe ordered a stability and balance work-out. Which included piston squat, plank to single-arm reach and kick through lunch. I was shaking, craving for air, hurting. I hadn’t slept much this week. Adjusting to this new place and circumstances were wearing me out. Nevertheless, I made a resolution to keep going without Stilnox as long as possible. I bet tonight after this killing work-out, I’ll sleep like a baby. So, I took a deep breath and firmly believed that nothing would stop me. Well, okay, maybe puking, which seemed like a vital possibility at the moment. Or fainting. But I pushed it away and pushed myself harder. I knew this was nothing compared to what Chloe who had been stabbed and gutted in the school lab of my old high school had to go through. And that lazy head detective just had seen it as a pain in his ass because it had happened a week before his retirement. One day I will be standing in his shoes, and no criminal will escape justice. A little bit of muscle soreness or pain is not going to stand between me and that future. I raised my right arm when in the plank position and tightened all my muscles. Unfortunately, they couldn’t take any more. My body refused to work. I got dizzy, lost balance and fell right on my face. 

“Maybe you should go home, kitty. This is not for pussies.” I heard a male voice next to me. It was the Zachary guy. It took everything in me, but I mustered all the strength that left and went from lying prostrate to kneeling. It was a hell of a struggle, but the image of him being in the position of a head detective not giving a damn about the dead girl surely helped. I couldn’t allow that.

“Don’t be a dick, Zach.” A female voice countered accompanied by a slap. “It’s no shame that she doesn’t have what it takes. No need to make fun of her.” For some reason, these words really hurt, unlike Zachary’s. Even when she actually supported me. Did Victoria Chase though I was a useless pussy, too? If so, why it bothered me so much?

“Everyone, take a break!” Oh my, I was in trouble, I thought. My weakness was completely uncovered as it seemed. Because professor Jiwe decided to intervene. 

“Are you alright?” I felt her hand on my shoulder, but her piercing eyes on me weren’t angry. They were warm. I nodded. “Good”, she smiled, “drink water and take a break.” She said and stood up. 

“You, 50 high knees.” She shouted at Zachary.

“What?” He blurted.

“100, then. Now!” He didn’t dare to oppose but mumbled something about _that this work-out has nothing to do with self-defence._ Even if he was kind of right, I definitely didn’t mind when professor Jiwe added. “And thirty push-ups. For every single one you slack off, you’ll do ten more.”

Honestly, I felt a pinch of satisfaction she didn’t let his stupid remark unnoticed. But it didn’t make me feel less of the pussy. Fortunately, the rest of the class wasn’t as intense. After she almost destroyed Zachary’s Pectoralis major forcing him to do zillion more push-ups, professor Jiwe proceeded without any heavy work-out. First, she made a speech about how we must stay true to ourself, to the path we've chosen. To serve and to protect. 

“You’re here because you decided to give up on your own comfort and safety to protect others. Or I hope so.” She spoke with all seriousness. “If that’s not a case. Please, leave. I’m sure you can find your place in the world elsewhere.” 

Were her last words addressed to me? Could I serve and protect? This first week proved me otherwise. “All of you decided to stay? Impressive.” And professor’s words weren’t helping either.

“I would do a hundred push-ups every class just to learn how to beat the shit out of low life criminals from you. You’re the queen of the cage.” Zachary had no filter again. Surprisingly, professor Jiwe ignored him.

“Before we start, remember! You are not a judge. You are not a jury. Your first choice is always trying to diffuse a difficult situation with words. Never and I mean it, never initiate the fight. You should only engage in violence when you’re defending yourself or someone else. When the fight is necessary avoid hurting the suspect if possible. Just pacify them. Find and collect the evidence and make sure, the scene is safe. For you and for your colleagues. Now, the basic fighting stance.”

She showed us and was patient and thoughtful when practising with everyone separately. I liked her approach but why she hadn’t started this way and instead ruined us (mostly me) with useless 45 minutes of high-intensity work-out. Now my body felt drained, my brain was hardly working, and I just wanted this day to be over.

“Okay, class, line up.” The words I yearned to hear finally came. But it was only a partial victory. “You’re dismissed. But Max Caulfield, a word.”

I guess it wasn’t unexpected. And at this point, I didn’t even care what she was about to tell me. That I screwed, that I don’t have what it takes. I could only hope it’ll be quick.

“So Max,” she started when we were alone, “you chose a fitness class as your optional course, and you’re supposed to attend this afternoon?”

“Yes, professor.” It was mandatory to choose one optional course. As much as I’d love to attend forensic photography, stamina, and strength was the field I needed to improve the most. So, it was painful but logical choice. Now I hated it, even more, knowing another 90 minutes of this were waiting for me after lunch.

“But why?” She asked, unable to hide the wonder. I shrugged. Did it even matter what I was going to say? She probably already considered me incompetent. 

“Well, you saw it, didn’t you? Resilience is my absolute weakness. My fitness level needs to improve. I do not love this strenuous physical activity, but as you said we’re here because we decided to give up on our own comfort and safety to protect others.” Professor Jiwe smiled first, and then she shook her head. I was becoming more and more confused.

“You know what Max Caulfield what I saw today? You were the most resilient and most dedicated person in this room. Your problem is you have no idea how to use your potential properly. You need to work hard of course but also smart. You have an extreme will to do something, but your actions are chaotic and counterproductive.”

And here it was. After a short bright moment when I thought she was actually praising me, the unwanted truth hit me. “So you also think I don’t have what it takes, like Zachary. Well--”

“Max, do you really think Nate Heywood would pick you from other five hundred seventy-seven candidates if you didn’t have what it takes?” I shrugged again. I had no strength left for more words or actions or anything.

“You're pardoned from afternoon class, for today. You’re in no shape to make it. But promise me this,” she reached for her sports bag and took out the business card. “Call her, it’s my great friend and also an amazing personal trainer. She loves difficult cases, and she loves clients who are dedicated. Tell her I sent you. She’ll give you a student discount and teach you how to breathe properly, how to use your strength and stamina and how to calm your racing mind.”

I took a card but only because somehow, I figured professor Amaya Jiwe was not the person who’ll take no for an answer. “I-I need to speak with dad, first. I’m not sure if I can afford it, I mean--” I sought for a way out with small lies when I realised… Did she say I need to learn how to breathe? Was I that lame that I needed to be taught how to use my lungs? 

“There are many part-time jobs available in police archives and evidence warehouse. Think about it, Max. She’s the best, and once you know how to use your body properly, you’ll be the best too. Dismissed.” She cut the discussion short, and I only manage to mutter a weak _thank you professor_ and headed to the locker room. She was totally right about how I tend to be chaotic, and most of the times, I was unable to stay focused and calm. Everything that happened this week only underlined her words. But how, I looked at the business card again, spending time in the gym with _Sara Lance, the personal trainer_ will help to solve this issue? Without an answer, I entered the locker room and clashed with Victoria Chase, who was just leaving. Awesome, as if I needed any more shits going on.

“Sorry,” I said, not looking up hoping some of her lovers was impatiently waiting for her, so she’ll just leave me be. She didn’t.

"Fuck, are you nuts?” She cried. “Why the fuck are you sorry? It was me who run into you!” She was fuming, and I had no idea what the hell was going on. Why such a simple situation made her so edgy? And it was only the beginning. “Don't be fucking sorry. Don't be weak! Why you even came here? What the hell were you thinking? Jumping into this pool of water full of sharks! They can’t wait to eat you alive."

She was yelling at me, and when I was pretty sure normally it would get me close to tears, now it only fuelled my own anger. "Excuse me?"

"Don’t you see? It's like going to the frat party and expect the boys want to talk about butterflies collection and shyly holds hands with you. And--" And her theatrical stunt was interrupted by the ringing phone. "I can't now, babe. Trust it or not the fact that you suddenly become a horny teenager when a vagina is around is not the only ongoing matter in the world. Call you, bye." She said to the caller making this whole situation even more obscure. When the call ended, I had her full attention again. "And these bitches around lurking in the dark corners waiting for your innocence to be corrupted. So, they can feel better about their own pathetic existence."

"Hey calm your tits, will you?” Kristine Prescott, who was as much taken aback with this as I, came to my help. “First of all,” she said with her finger pointing, “you don’t make any sense. And besides, this is not freaking America. No stupid frat parties here. So, leave her be, she's delicate, this one. You should not scold her."

"Hey, I’m right here. And I'm not delicate!” Did absolutely everyone in the whole world think I was good for nothing? “I’m not weak!”

“Then prove it!” Victoria yelled. “Fucking prove it, Kate! Stand up for yourself!”

“Max!” I yelled back. She wanted to give me speeches, and she didn’t even know my name.

“What?”

“My name is Max, not fucking KATE. MAX CAULFIELD!” I’ve never done this before and never expected I ever will. Yet I was shouting at someone in anger, speaking my mind.

“FUCK. Fuck, whatever.” She run away, and dead silence spread around the women’s locker room. That’s when I realised something thick started to seep from my nose. 

I wiped it with the back of my hand, instinctively. It only happened rarely, but I knew it was almost impossible to wash blood stains from your clothes. 

“Here, take this.” Kristine fetched me a napkin. “And now when you show us you have balls, don’t hesitate to use them more often, will you?” I nodded and pressed the napkin firmly on my nostrils.

“That girl is nuts.” Dana dared to speak too. “And I thought the period makes me a rapacious monster. She should eat some chocolate. Or a whole chocolate cake. With strawberry frosting and gooey ganache. Like this yummy chocolately fudgy looking chocolate cake that melts in your mouth. And it also should be infused with bourbon. And contain pecans, some bacon and… Fuck. I hate period.” She sighed. Well, all the shits that were going on felt super heavy. Still, I actually wanted to have that cake after her very visual description. “Anyway, don’t mind her, Max. She’s just a plain bitch.” She squeezed my shoulder gently.

“Damn, she is!” So did Kristine. “So, will you be alright? Should I call someone?”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. It’s fine. It’s just the nosebleed. And I’m neither weak nor delicate.”

“Good for you and for girl power” Kristine laughed and waved me goodbye.

“Are you sure you’re alright,” Dana asked again.

“Absolutely. Go and have your chocolate cake. I just stay here for a moment and sit. Until the bleeding stops.”

“Okay. See you on Monday, Max.”

“Yeah. Bye.” Will she see me on Monday? That wasn’t the decision I planned to make alone. I carefully raised my free hand and unlocked the locker. It took forever to find the phone in there. But rushed movements were unwise, and one of my hands was still fully occupied, pressing the soaked napkin to my nose. But I needed to make this call now. It was picked almost immediately.

_“You’ve called.”_

“I told you I will.”

_“Yes. At least hundreds of times. And you never did first. Is everything alright?”_

“It is. Well, it isn’t but--”

_“You want me to come?”_

“No, Rachel, no. But do you have a moment to talk?”

_“Of course. Of course, I do. For you, Max, always.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [>>FIKA<<](http://www.swedishfood.com/fika)


	3. Welcome Beast

**Max Caulfield**

**Monday, September 23, Day 8, Year 1**

I looked at the armband and stood up from the bed. It was time to go. To school. Don’t worry, this story is far from over. 

On Friday, after a long chat with Rachel, I had decided to call my therapist. I told him about the puddle incident, setting myself on fire and lack of sleep. We agreed it wasn’t PTSD related just regular stress and fear of failure. He recommended taking Stilnox, though. I had to agree. If I was supposed to be on my full potential, I needed to sleep. Thankfully he didn’t mention I should quit and go back to the small town of Arcadia, where I spent most of my life. And where my overprotective mum was waiting for me. A bit more than a year ago when I had let my therapist known I plan to send an application for this special study program, he hadn’t been terribly in love with the idea. But he’d said he’d never seen such life in my eyes before. And he’d also warned me about all possible downsides this choice could bring to my life. And also about the possibility, I could fail psych evaluation. As you know, I had passed all the tests. In theory, I had what it takes to do this. In reality, I had to face a powerful enemy. Me. 

My other stop was the mirror. Worn blue jeans, boring grey hoodie. Rudimentary fold-over bag. Yeah, everything was in place. My face didn’t look exhausted anymore. Thanks to Stilnox, I had slept for 12 hours. Physically I was refreshed and ready. With that, I reach for the doorknob. My eyes got stuck on the schedule that was attached to my dorm room door. 

Monday:

10.00 - 11.30 Introduction to Crime scene investigation and forensic science - theory

12.30 - 14.00 Introduction to Crime scene investigation and forensic science - practice

Tuesday

8:15 - 9.45 Theory of law

10.00 - 11:30 Introduction to Criminal law

12:30 - 14.00 Introduction to Administrative law

Wednesday

10.00 - 11:30 Introduction to psychology

12.15 - 13:10 Photography Lab

13:25 - 14:20 Digital evidence

14.35 - 15:30 Trace analyses Lab

Thursday

10.00 - 11:30 Introduction to Forensic Medicine

12.30 - 14.00 Ballistics Lab/Shooting Range

Friday

10.00 - 11.30 Self Defense

12.30 - 14.00 Advance fitness training (optional course)

I sighed. “When I’ll figure out this then I’ll figure out that. Simple.” My eyes wandered to the wall above my bed. It was full of pictures, news articles, clues connected with the red thread. That was my ultimate chart. If I only had started with it sooner. “And that’s exactly the way, how you Max Caulfield should not think.” I needed to voice it. I was here now. And I was going to find Eliot Hampden eventually and prove it was him who murdered Chloe Price. With that resolution, I left the room.

The sole fact that he had made himself disappear after the graduation only proved what I had known from the moment I’d found him standing over Chloe Price’s lifeless body in the high school lab. The whole investigation had been a farce. Detective Egon Tiedemann was the most incompetent police officer one could imagine, and he also hadn’t given a damn. It’d been one week before his retirement. District attorney James Amber, yes Rachel’s father, hadn’t been any better. So there had been basically no investigation. The case had been dismissed due to the lack of evidence. Eliot Hampden had turned attention to janitor Samuel and blame the press for manhunting him. But as I said, there hadn’t even been enough evidence to start a trial. So no charges had been pressed. Nor against Eliot neither against janitor Samuel. And then that murderer disappeared. I only found out about these things due to my own later investigation, because after the murder I’d been numb. And kept away from everything related due to the protective hand of my mom. Although today, all of it was on my wall, on my chart. So both Egon Tiedemann and James Amber had slacked off. The head detective didn’t care, and Rachel’s father, as she’d claimed, was actually happy Chloe was gone. Rachel hadn't been talking to him ever since. But both slackers could fuck off. Because when I make it through my first year, I’ll become an official part of the corps and will gain access to CRIFID (criminal files database). I’ll go through the whole investigation again. I’ll go to evidence archives and re-check all the evidence and last, but not least I’ll log into the RR (Resident Register) and find where that fucker Eliot Hampden lives now. And keep my thorough eye on him. And everything I’ll learn at the Academy is going to help me to convict him eventually. 

“But let's not get ahead of yourself, Max. First things first.”

I got out of the dorms pleased with the lovely sunny weather. The predominant wind direction in our little country was causing a mild maritime climate. It meant the closer to the coastline the higher the humidity was. The rains weren’t abundant, and I was always ready for them. But today, it wasn’t necessary. There was not a single cloud in the sky.

Not like on that rainy day almost six years ago. I got in the Volkswagen Polo and opened the passenger compartment. There was always a right moment for sour candy, so I took them out and put one in my mouth. I hadn’t had any around the day Chloe Price had been murdered. Mum had been pretty adamant in the morning when she had run out of our house to give me an umbrella. _It’s going to rain, Max, you’ll need it._ She’d asserted when fetching one to me but no sour candies. The sky had been cloudy, but I hadn’t cared much about rains back then. Mum had held me up with umbrella stunt and overprotectiveness, and I’d missed the tram. I’d caught another one, but my arrival to school had been delayed, so I hadn’t had time to stop in the locker and let that freaking umbrella there. I’d run straight to the lab for chemistry class. And of course, forgot the umbrella the moment I’d rested it against the chemical cabinet in the corner. And of course, it had rained, eventually. When I’d peeked out of the main door after my classes were over, I’d seen the heavy rain and remembered the umbrella. After the quick discussion with my friend Fernando if his shabby raincoat could hide us both or if I should run to the tram stop, the decision had been made. If I came home soaked through and trough without the umbrella, mum would kill me. So I’d asked him to wait for me and reluctantly run to the third floor where the chemistry lab was located. I’d known something was odd when I’d arrived there. Not _there is a girl gutted on the floor_ odd but still odd. The flow of the water was streaming below the door. My slip-ons would get drained with or without umbrella anyway so I’d chose to go in. I’d managed to avoid the water outside the class, but when stepped in, it had been impossible. After a couple of steps, the slip-ons had been soaked to the ground and so had been my socks, and that squeaky sound when drenched shoe meets the floor will always be connected with her dead body and his empty murderous eyes in my mind.

Detective Tiedemann hadn’t even questioned me. Actually, he hadn’t even spoken to me. One of his men just asked me to stay out of the crime scene and promised medics will be there in no time to check my wound. He’d also wondered why I’d broken the glass on fire alarm with my bare hand.

_“There is a dead body on the floor,”_ I remembered those words of mine. I remembered everything about that day. But every time it came back, it wasn’t like I was there. It was like watching a movie, you’ve already seen for million times, so you know what’s going to happen but can’t change a thing. 

I turned the car right towards the Academy driveway and for this time found a spot quite easily. I also didn’t feel the urge to have another sour candy. I raised my right hand and close it a couple of times slowly. Or tried. Some of the torn ligaments never appropriately healed after I broke the glass, so full fist pump was out of the table. And my handwriting looked extremely ugly, too. But I lived. And even learnt how to handle the gun with my weaker hand. And that was the point. When I had hit the fire alarm with my bare hand back then, I had saved my life. My eyes lingered on the lightning-shaped scar spreading from the place under my pinky through the rest of the back of my right hand. It was a reminder that there was something in me that could make me fight. And despite those numb years behind me, it was still there. And I was finally ready to rise.

I hopped off the car, excited being back. The moment I took a step towards the Academy, I was almost run over. The honking sound and screeching wasn’t anything pleasant but since it wasn’t the sound of squishing shoe drenched with water I was cool. There was also another thing that erased any possible unpleasant emotion that could be caused by this situation. The hinged radiant red cover of the motor engine below my hands could belong only to the one car. I looked up and saw the angry Prince Charming driver glaring at me and next to him barbie girl Victoria. It must be fate. Slowly I closed my right hand to the fist as much as it got and raised it. The dread in the driver’s eyes was exactly the reaction I yearned for. He probably thought I’m going to hit the hood of his beloved ugly sports cars. What an idiot. I rotated the fist a bit and rewarded him with a middle finger. I’ve never made such an obscure gesture before. My heart was thumping in my chest like it could jump out and pressure in the bridge of my nose was dangerously close to causing the nosebleed but, oh gawd it felt so great. 

Fueled by adrenaline, I made my way to the Academy. Warren was already in the class and as always eager to talk. I was trying my best to look interested in his thoughts about if Monk is a better healer or the Priest. What I was really doing though, was checking the door waiting for Victoria to show up. When she finally did, I must admit she looked stunning as always. With short sleeves, knee-length and cute little flat white collar with soft, curved corners, her dress seemed almost magical. And so did she. You could easily mistake her for the nice girl next door when she really was only a psycho bitch. She neither paid any attention to me nor to the rest of the class and engaged herself in vivid chatter with Zachary. 

“Hello, class. Miss me much?” Professor Heywood, who sat in silence at the front desk until now, made his presence known. It was time, and with Victoria’s arrival, there were all of us around. She didn’t come fashionably late this time, but it was so so. The chatter ceased. “So I have good news.” He continued. “All of you fulfilled the assignment I gave you,” I remembered the email that had been delivered Thursday evening on my official study account. _Describe a chosen classmate in one sentence. Be original, creative, and bit of fun won’t hurt either but don’t forget brevity is the soul of wit. The deadline is in 5 minutes, and the clock starts the moment you open the email. No googling._ I got Zachary. At least it wasn’t Victoria. The deadline was crazy short, but one sentence task was ridiculous. Of course, everyone had fulfilled it. I wrote simple _Excitement looks different._ Because every time Zachary had to do something school-related, he seemed like he’s going to die of boredom. “I can’t say you outperformed. Let’s see how you put your observations skills, something absolutely essential for police investigator, in use.” Professor snapped his fingers, and the screen behind him came to life. 

Kristine Prescott was the first name that appeared. The words that followed kind of fit.

_She would look better with more colours in her wardrobe and in her black and white view of the world._

“This one is actually not utterly disappointing. What do you think miss Prescott?” Professor asked, and Kristine definitely didn’t seem like she was eager to answer. Nevertheless, after she took her time, she waved her long dark black dyed hair and her lips decorated with black lipstick created an impish smile.

“I’d say, whoever wrote this, SHE could stick HER fake _cruel to be kind_ attitude to the place with no sun.”

She used Shakespeare reference and even for those who didn’t catch it, it must be clear Kristine was talking to Victoria. It caused some chuckles around the class, Victoria Chase though didn’t even raise her head from her phone. Not even when professor Heywood asked if anyone wants to add anything more. So maybe it was someone else who recommended Kristine to cut the black.

“Very well, then. Who’s next?” He smiled and snapped his fingers again. “Miss Dana Ward.” He said when her name appeared on the screen.

_Too bad, she’s taken ‘cause she’s a keeper._

“Whoever wrote this,” Trevor tried to mimic Kristine’s antics, “I’ll find you, and I'll kill you.” His stunt was thousands of times less emotional, but still, it was the first time he actually showed any.

“Seems like you’re in trouble, young man or woman. Next time try harder and think about consequences.” Professor Heywood said to no one in particular, but from the blush on Warren’s face, I figured it was him who had gotten Dana as his assignment. I hid the laugh behind the palm of my hand. He noticed and mouthed _It supposed to be funny._ It wasn’t, I thought, but Dana was quite a looker, and she was sweet and kind, unlike Victoria or Kristine. So at some point, it was possible to agree with his words.

“Next!” Professor did the snapping thing again, and Drew’s name popped up.

_I don’t know, and he doesn’t either._

“Did you write it?” Drew spat at Kristine.

“No!” She spat back. She seemed genuinely disturbed by his accusation. Drew just shook his head but didn’t say anything more.

“Well, I hope you’ll both figure it out soon,” professor said to the author of Drew’s description and to Drew himself. “And now Warren Graham.” His name appeared after another snapping.

_Too many words, too many t-shirts one over another._

“Yep, that’s me.” Warren grinned then stood up and bowed. It was the first time that description of someone didn’t cause a negative reaction. He wasn’t offended by it at all, even when it was a bit offensive. His attitude and bad jokes were annoying sometimes, but his good spirit was undeniable. 

The next one was Zachary. He just shrugged after the _Excitement looks different_ appeared on the screen. To me, it only confirmed what I had written. This whole thing, Academy, studies a carrier of the police officer meant nothing to him. The only time when he showed excitement was when with Victoria. I watched her whispering something into his ear. He shrugged again but then when she continued, he smiled eventually. Not his usual smug grin but soft smile.

“So that's it about Trevor, who’s next?” I missed Trevor’s description, and that meant only two names left. Victoria’s was first in line.

_Goddess, Flawless, Nevertheless, Heartless_

“I am speechless, someone’s in love with you, Miss Chase.” Professor turned to Victoria, his tone suggested he wasn’t impressed at all how the author of the quote carried his task. Victoria rolled her eyes and showed a lot of concern.

“You’re an ass, Zach. He’ll kick you out in no time if you won’t--”

“So you don’t like my poem?” He interrupted her, not giving a damn if he could be kicked out of school. Her expression softened, and she shook her head.

“I do not know, why dost thou not? Thy word seem plain, a mundane lot. Perhaps a poet's soul's in me... Does that make me a poet tree?" That was her reply.

“I had no idea what did you say, but I hope it was a compliment. Did you quote Shakespeare?” I did recognise the rhyme and had to smirk that Zachary was genuinely excited by her words.

“No, I did not,” Victoria smirked, too. “And it could be a compliment only if you seek to be a poet tree.”

“What? So who did you quote?”

“Grand Oak.”

“Grand Oak? That’s a really weird pseudonym.” Zachary was still lost.

Professor! Professor Heywood.” Warren’s hand raised timidly. “Is this a time where we should intervene and say their banter has nothing to do with a class? Like last week.”

“I don’t know Mr Graham. Do you want to intervene?” Professor’s brows behind his dark black glasses went up.

“Y-yes?” Was a word that came from his mouth, his eyes, although said something like _why I even open it in the first place._

“Very well. Thank you, Ms Chase, Mr Riggins, now we know you both like poetry or trees perhaps. Mr North and Ms Prescott revealed to us last week that they both hate injustice, so maybe next week we’re going to find out what has Mr Yard and Ms Ward in common. But now, back to the class.” He snapped his fingers for the last time, and the playful mood was replaced with death silence

_Max Caulfield - She won’t make it to another week._

I couldn’t say I expected that, but it wasn’t surprising either. All eyes were on me, waiting for my reaction, but I only connected with one pair. It was the first time today, she wasn’t staring at her phone or mingling with Zachary. The unique shade of green was piercing right into my soul. Did she write it? Did it matter if it was her or Kristine or Zachary or whoever? Those words weren’t true. I was still here. Victoria pursed her lips. I held her gaze and my words from Friday _I’m not weak_ resonated in my head. And so did her yelling _Then prove it!._ She was the last person in the world I would need to prove anything. I didn’t care about what Victoria fucking Chase thought about me or my weakness. But I had to be strong for someone who had been robbed of the chance to be anything she wanted. Chloe Price. Thinking about her mischievous grin, her rebellious attitude, her sweet, loving relationship with Rachel and her dead body on the floor. I lifted my hand the same way I had done in the morning and stuck out the middle finger to no one in particular. Chloe had used to love this little gesture, and I realised it was becoming one of my favourites, too. 

“Splendid. Now, if you’re finally ready to learn something, I’m going to teach you. Dr Edmond Locard, does the name ring any bell?” My hand descended when I heard professor’s words somewhere in the distance, and even though my eyes were still linked with Victoria’s, I saw Kristine’s hand raising eager to react to his bidding.

“Ms Chase, perhaps.” Kristine’s vigour was dismissed. The question itself was useless, anyway. None of us could be here without knowing about Dr Edmond Locard. 

“Dr Locard is author of Locard’s principle.” Said Victoria Chase but I would swear she was more interested in piercing me with her eyes than in answering the question.

“You don’t say, bitch.” Kristine didn’t miss her indifferent tone.

“Watch the language, Ms Prescott, please. And you Ms Chase, would you kindly elaborate.”

“The principle holds, “when Victoria spoke again I sensed goosebumps all over my body. Her eyes darkened, her voice became deep and captivating. It made me feel like there were only two of us in the room, “that the perpetrator of a crime will bring something into the crime scene and leave with something from it, and that both can be used as forensic evidence. Every contact leaves a trace.” She concluded and looked away abruptly. It was most peculiar, but I couldn’t suppress the feeling, something stayed unsaid.

“Precisely.” Professor Heywood continued. “Wherever he steps, whatever he touches, whatever he leaves, even unconsciously, will serve as a silent witness against him. Not only his fingerprints or his footprints, but his hair, the fibres from his clothes, the glass he breaks, the tool mark he leaves, the paint he scratches, the blood or semen he deposits or collects. All of these and more, bear mute witness against him. This is evidence that does not forget. It is not confused by the excitement of the moment. It is not absent because human witnesses are. It is factual evidence. Physical evidence cannot be wrong, it cannot perjure itself, it cannot be wholly absent. Only human failure to find it, study and understand it, can diminish its value.”

I grabbed a pen in an effort to take some notes, but after a moment I become fully aware that I wasn’t even looking at the notebook but my forearms. Goosebumps were still there. And all over my body. The trace of our _contact._ Her contact. For the second time in less than a week, Victoria Chase caused an explosion of emotions in me. Emotions I wasn’t even sure I still had. 

“No, it was me, not her,” I muttered.

“Are you alright, Max?” Warren leant closer.

“What?” I looked up and saw the ripped pages of my notebook. My pen went through the few of them because instead of taking notes, I had been sketching one line over and over again. “I mean, I’m fine.” I dropped the pen and reached for my bag. I felt strong, confident and energised but it didn’t mean I couldn’t have a sour candy. I put one into my mouth and looked at him. “Actually, I’ve never been better.” Then peeked to Victoria. Her eyes were on me again. Had she seen me ripping my notebook? I looked away and decided I didn’t care. What I cared about was professor’s Heywood lecture. I tore destroyed pages and for this time started to make real notes. 


	4. Not Pictured

**Max Caulfield**

**Wednesday, October 2, Day 16, Year 1**

I was walking down the stairs deeper into the Academy underground. We usually had a photography lab in the lab on the first floor. Still, professor Palmer had sent us an email yesterday that we’re meeting in Training Area underground. As far as I know, there was a morgue at a subzero level and also the famous Training Area a.ka. the huge facility where almost any possible crime scene or crime situation could be created. Burning room, an unsuccessful bank robbery that resulted in the hostage situation, or simple car burglary. And all of this could be thoroughly monitored by Academy teachers who can quickly evaluate first hand which candidates had what it takes.

I cursed myself stepping down the last step that I had separated with Warren after the Lunch. I wanted to call Rachel and needed some privacy for that. Now I could use him and his stupid jokes how we ended in a horror movie. Because that was exactly how the subzero level felt. I looked around, and there were no doors at sight. Only two-way corridor extremely lit and perfectly sterile. Approaching voices caught my attention. I turned left and spotted two men at the end.

“She should be relocated, first chief commissioner. I’ve been telling you for five years, and I’m telling you again. She’s unhinged and dangerous. But she needs help. She needs medical attention, not a salt to insult. I was there with third graders the other day, and she is getting worse every year. Her high intelligence, combined with untreated schizoaffective disorder, is giving her power over everyone. No one seems to care about how she’s affecting other inmates. They’re vulnerable to her twisted views. How can they go through resocialization and believe in the system again if she makes them hate the system?” The first one belonged to professor Heywood. He and the other man I didn’t recognize was walking towards me.

“Mr Heywood, that woman, Lisbeth Fischer is a nasty criminal who excuses her actions with insane lies about how god chose her. She’s neither a victim nor a patient. She belongs to jail and deserves to be punished. And seriously, you’re calling those other lowlifes vulnerable? They are the worst in this society. They’re bad guys. Do you understand? They deserved to be in jail and suffer. There’s nothing to repair!”

“With all due respect, the sentence is supposed to be rehabilitation, not suffering. You lock people like animals they gonna act like animals. This woman, Lisbeth Jones, is ill and you know that. A force and oppression will not solve any purpose with her. In the meantime, she’s straining other inmates from possible rehabilitation. She needs a clear view of the world, not proof the official authority means cruel and unjust treatment. She’s becoming a martyr in prison, and her zealotry is getting worse. Some of those women are willing to do anything for her. What if she-- ” professor sounded concerned.

The other man was excluding scorn and disdain. “And you think psychiatric Asylum can provide a special approach and a clear view of the world? You lost touch with the real police work ages ago. If you ever had any.”

“Her case should be reopened. She can’t be around other inmates anymore. She’s radicalizing them. And she should be in the care of experienced experts, more importantly taking the proper medication.”

“Are you nuts? If some freaking neoliberal doctor will diagnose her with mental disease and find a pussy judge who’ll send her to the Asylum, there’s a fair chance she’ll be released eventually. I don’t know what is more disturbing. You consider this a possibility. Or me still allowing you to teach the future police officers with such a pussy approach! Did you forget what she has done to you?” They were almost next to me.

“No, I--. Hello, miss Caulfield. Looking for something?”

“The Training Area. Professor Palmer emailed that we are going to practice a real crime scene photos in there.” I looked into his impenetrable glasses. I was never quite sure if he actually could see me, or anyone and if not, how he could recognize one person from another.

“The end of the corridor.” He pointed with his silver cane. And that was another thing. Sometimes he used it and sometimes it was nowhere around. “The crimes scenes are perfect. I think you’ll love it.” 

“Thank you, professor.” I nodded and walked around them. But before they were out of sight, I was able to steal a glance of another man. The First commissioner Henrik V. Riggins. The head of Dutch police. And Zachary’s father.

There were two doors at the end, one lead to the women’s locker room and the other probably to the men’s. It was empty and a lot smaller than locker rooms in the gym’s complex. But I didn’t need to change, I only left my bag in one of the lockers and proceeded further through the door on the other side. All of my classmates were already gathered in the small briefing room, professor Palmer included. When he took us to the Training Area, I was quite stunned. It was vast. At least half of it was unused. The rest was divided into four crime scenes. And professor Heywood was right, I loved it. They were awesome, and if there weren‘t only two walls instead of four, it would be indistinguishable from a real crime scene. We were supposed to work in pairs, and every pair got an envelope with a short depiction of what happened. I was paired with Trevor. His usual emotionless attitude was replaced with a hint of disapproval and a hint of paleness. It didn’t shatter my confidence. Especially after Professor Palmer gave us photography kits which also and I had hard times to not cry in joy. Because there wasn’t any camera in there, it was the best freaking camera I’ve ever touched in my whole life. To my surprise, before we started Dana subtly approached me. She asked me to read the instructions aloud but be careful to not show I'm doing it on purpose. It was a strange request, but I fulfilled it, and some colour finally came back to Trevor’s face. Our crime scene the Jewellery store burglary was already secured, and our task was only to take pictures, nothing more. Which was great actually, because we only needed to focus on the subject, the scale and a reference object. Trevor was obviously distracted by the flickering light in the _Jewelry store._ I suppose it wasn’t a result of coincidence or system malfunction. It was intentional.

“How the fuck, should we take proper pictures with this shit goin‘ on.” He sighed. It was unusual to see him so disturbed. 

“Maybe this will help.” I unscrewed the bulb, and our crime scene dove in the darkness.

“No light. Yeah, that will definitely help to take great pictures.”

I ignored his grumpiness and equipped the camera with electronic flash. A couple of provisional photos gave a good picture of how should I adjust an ISO. Then I took the flashlight and scanned the scene for all evidence. I sorted them into two groups. The ones that will require a remote cord for shutter and those that won’t. The second step was to choose which evidence would require a close-up lens. I put the flash into my mouth because it was the only way how to get enough light and have free hands.

“We should work in pairs, shouldn’t we?” Trevor illuminated the scene with his own flashlight. His voice lacked any energy. I almost forgot he was there with me.

“You h-eed help?” His disapproval of our pairing was clear from the beginning, so this was the only reason that came to my mind why he would press the cooperation.

“Did Dana tell you to read instructions loud?” I turned, and with the flash still in my mouth, I exposed him to the intense beam of light. He stepped back, and his face wrinkled in pain. Something was telling me betraying her wasn’t the best course of action. I put the flashlight out of my mouth and skipped his question.

“Will you provide some light until I change the lenses?”

“Why are you here, Max?” I had no clue what got into him, and frankly, I didn’t desire to find out.

“Because we need to finish this assignment.”

“I mean here, at Academy.” He waved his hand. “Do you even want it? Why are you here and not in some Art school in Barcelona. Why would you want to be a police officer? You?”

“Let’s just focus on the task.” I sighed. I had zero interaction with Victoria Chase since our staring contest. Actually, it seemed she forgot about me. It was suspicious, and I expected some more judgemental attacks. It was here. Surprisingly not from her but from Trevor.

“Come on, Max tell me, why you would steal this spot from someone who really wants it when you don’t?”

“I didn’t steal anything from anybody. Do you think my reasons to be here are less justified and honest than yours? Drew’s, Kristine’s or Dana’s.” The anger rose in me. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, you should be. You’re wasting a time we could spend on our task, and you forget I passed the same test you did. All of us.”

“How many times you tried?”

“Once,” I admitted.

“Once.” He let out a nervous laugh. “I did five. Five, Max. If it weren’t for Dana, I would probably never make it. I have severe dyslexia and dysgraphia. But I so wanted this. I know I’m going to be a great police officer.”

“Well, that’s great because you’re here now. And surely you understand I’m not responsible for your four unsuccessful attempts. So shall we--”

“I’m sorry.”

“Cool. Apology accepted and now to the task.” I was losing my patience with him, so I hoped he’ll drop whatever was eating him.

“Wait, wait.” He didn’t. “It was me who had your description as a first assignment. It was me who wrote you won’t make it to the next week. Oh boy, Dana was so mad at me when I suggested it but respected my choice of words. And I’m sorry because it was stupid. I wish I could just understand, why are you here.”

I needed to do some deep breaths for this first. “Same reason than you, Trevor. And hopefully all of us. I want this. I want to be a police officer to fight injustice and crime. To make a difference.”

“Okay. I get it.” To my pleasure, he finally budged. “You’ve made a point. I guess we should go back to work.”  
“We should.” I could only agree.

The rest of our time together went pretty smoothly, considering the beginning of our session. Photography wasn’t one of Trevor’s virtues, and he had hard times to ask for help, but we kind of found our pace and did a decent work. 

“Alright folks,” Professor Palmer bid us gather around him, “take the memory cards from your cameras and give me back the kits. You’re going to send me your photos today at 6pm at the latest. Next week in the lab we will see if there is any Richard Avedon or Diane Arbus among you. Or at least a decent forensic photographer. The best photo will grant the owner 20% of their final grade. The author of the worst photos will have to do an additional assignment.”

It caused various reactions. Hardly positive. No one knew this was a test. It supposed to be a simple exercise. Technically, perfect photos weren’t my favourites, the opposites one were. But when I had worked in photo atelier after graduation, I needed to learn a thing or two about the theory. So I was pretty confident I didn’t fail this task. Before I could leave the Training Area, I felt a soft touch of my shoulder.

“Max,” Trevor had some difficulties in looking me in the eye but sustained. “Thank you. If we’re supposed to be in this together, I’m glad you’re on the board, too.”

I just smiled and nodded. I didn’t feel like I was in _this_ together with any of these people. But he didn’t need to know that.

**Wednesday, October 9, Day 23, Year 1**

“Oh, my. I’m so nervous. I have no eye for photography.” Warren complained. “I think my photos will be the worst, and I will need to fulfil an additional assignment.” 

I had seen his pics. And unfortunately, he was absolutely right. But he’s been really friendly to me and never breached the conditions of our initial agreement. I owed him a bit of support. “I bet you beat Drew and Zachary at least.” He would stand a chance against Trevor too, but I had helped Trevor greatly, so it wasn’t an option anymore.”

“Do you think so?” He looked at me pleadingly.

“Well, I suspect if there was a Selfie contest, you’d not stand a chance against Zachary, but fortunately it isn’t.” He chuckled, and professor Palmer entered the lab.

“Hey, folks. Looking forward to a rumble?” He said enthusiastically thudding his fists to the desk softly. 

“What’s rumble?” Dana leant to Trevor with a bit of worry.

“I think the professor’s just trying to be a bit dramatic.” He squeezed her hand.

“Oh, come on, guys. Photography is life. You did pretty solid crime scene photos.” Professor enthused us. “Or at least some of you.” “Warren, sorry to disappoint but you’re the one who has to do an additional assignment.”

“Damn.”

“But I can assure you I’ve seen worse even from police officers in active duty, so don’t worry, just work hard. And speaking of hard work, Zachary you’ll see me tomorrow at six in my office. Your photos weren’t rated.”

So technically, Zachary’s photos were the worst, why Warren got an additional assignment. Double standard, much. Why professor Palmer let him pass was beyond me.

“I’ll help you with it, okay?” I leant to Warren. 

“Oh, it’s cool. Victoria already promised to help. I kind of cried on her shoulder.”

Victoria was helping Warren? Oh, whatever. I should not react to that. I did, anyway. “What did I miss? Since when you’re friends with her?”

“Max, are you cereal? Me and Victoria Chase. Friends? What planet are you living on? We just have an optional course, _Forensic chemistry_ , on Tuesdays together.” His explanation actually didn’t explain anything. Fortunately, professor Palmer stopped my absurd curiosity from growing stronger.

“And now, to the best ones. One of these will grant the photographer 20% of their grade.”

On the screen behind him, three pics appeared, and my heart almost jumped from my chest. One of those was mine. I knew I did a good job, but seeing the pic there was very real and tangible evidence that I earnt my place in Academy.

“So number one, Max Caulfield.” Professor Palmer introduced my photo. “Number two, Trevor Yard.” “Shit, really?” Trevor showed even more emotions that he had revealed last week when he had been angry with me. Positive for this time. “Thanks, Max.” He cried.

“And number three, Victoria Chase,” professor announced. Victoria always had her head stuck in her phone without paying any attention to the world around. “Congrats guys, but only one can win.”

Professor give all of us a chance to earn an additional 10% to our final grade. If we would be able to pick the best photo and offer a proper description of why that particular one was the best. It was without a doubt which one it was. Victoria’s broken bannister. It was perfect. Aperture was ideal, shutter speed she had chosen was just right to make the bannister look clear with proper brightness. I was sure I will never rub my elbows with her, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t an outstanding photographer. 

“No volunteers? No one’s interested in 10% of their grade?” Was I sure I could pick the best photo and give the proper explanation? Yes, I was. Did I want to speak in front of the whole class and praise Victoria? No, absolutely not. So I stayed silent. If Victoria was capable of taking such picture, there was no doubt she would carry the task with ease. She didn’t seem to be interested. “You broke my heart class. I’ll engage you differently, then. We will vote. Trevor, Victoria and Max, you cannot vote for your own photo. Let’s do this. Warren.”

“Max, for the win.” He shouted, and I wished he could just say my name without his theatrical stunt for once.

“Drew?”

“Victoria.” He said, and Kristine sent daggers Victoria’s way.

“Zachary?”

“Victoria.”

“Two for Victoria, one for Max. What about you, Dana?”

“Sorry, love, sorry Max, but I’m with Victoria on this one,” Dana said apologetically. Despite I agreed that Victoria’s picture was the best I couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal and surprise. Trevor, although didn’t mind at all. Top three position was a victory for him.

“Three for Victoria, one for Max. So let’s see what Max Caulfield thinks about this.”

There was no doubt if I voted for Trevor, Victoria was not going to win. I didn’t see Kristine or Trevor voting for her. So it would be a tie. Or I could even win if she would vote for me. Which was totally impossible. And unfair because her pic was better than mine.

“Victoria made the best shot, so I vote for her,” I admitted.

Trevor and Kristine voted for me as I expected, but it didn’t change anything. She had four votes, and the last one was at her disposal when I only had three. 

“And last but not le--”

“The first one.” She picked my photo. “The first one is the best.” Again. She did it again. I felt goosebumps all over my body. The way she said it, the soft undertones, the sincerity. I didn’t look her way. Nothing she said or she did, shouldn’t have any value to me. Yet, I felt strangely soothing warmness inside me.

“It’s a tie. Nice. Because that’s how I see it, too.” Professor Palmer smiled widely. “Girls, you have done an outstanding job, and you’ve both just earned 20% of your grade. And now we proceed to--”

Knock on the door interfered with his intentions and the person who entered brought a lot of curious whispers.

“Good day. I have a delivery for Victoria Chase.” Said the young man in police uniform. I recognized him as one of the S.W.A.T guys who had a class with professor Jiwe on Friday before us. But according to the _delivery,_ I would expect a different guy. “It’s from your devoted admirer.” He put an extraordinary bouquet of tulips on the desk in front of her, then bowed and left.

“Why’s this happening to me.” Victoria buried her face in both hands to hide the blush.

_“Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.”_ Zachary read the message on the little card. “And you claimed I’m the only one for you.“ He concluded. I couldn’t say if he was serious or teasing. What I could say was that the warmness I had felt a moment ago was gone, gone, gone. 

“Focus, folks. Flowers are beautiful, indeed, and I agree with Oscar Wilde’s opinion about portraits. Still, we have a lot to do, so let’s get back to work.” Professor shushed the lively talks and put the flowers into the biggest graduated cylinder he could find.

For the rest of the class, I was trying to do what he asked for. To focus. It was none of my concern that Victoria was mingling with every boy alive. After the class, the S.W.A.T guy, the right one for this time... The tall one with broad shoulders who always tried to flirt with Victoria before the self-defence class was waiting outside. She walked by him without paying any notice. It didn’t discourage him from catching up with her.

“I hate you.” Her words definitely didn’t sound like she hated him.

“It’s cool until you like the tulips.”

“Damn, you.” She surrendered. “You have ten minutes of my time. Make it worth!

Whatever it was, I had no interest in breeding my masochism and find out. I headed to the bathroom seeking for a break from oddity called Victoria Chase. There were three weeks into the school, and she had already gotten involved with three different guys. The sports car driver, Zachary and now the S.W.A.T. guy. Oh Gawd, that girl was wh--. Weird. She was definitely weird.


	5. Victoria's Secret

**Max Caulfield**

**Monday, October 14, Day 28, Year 1**

For the afternoon class, _Introduction to Crime scene investigation and forensic science - practice,_ professor Heywood brought two strange-looking metal boxes. He divided us into two groups. Boys and Girls. The content of the boxes surprised everyone. For some, it was a pleasant surprise for others, not so much. I felt a desktop game vibe but much more sophisticated, with lots of exciting gadgets. Our task was to create a detailed crime scenario. The other group was supposed to gather all evidence and solve the case. 

“All members of the winning group gain 30% of their grade.” I was super excited, because holly molly, we could gain 30% of our grade by playing a desktop game. Wowser.

“A challenge, yeah! You’re going to lose assholes.” Kristine was a fan of any competition, and when beating boys was involved, her thrill exploded.

“We’re going to play a desktop game. I should stay at home.” Zachary said in his usual bored tone.

“It can be done, Mr Riggins, with ease. Slack off today, and your wish will be granted, right away. You’ll never have to come back.”

For a second I thought Zachary is going to say something that will cost him his place in here. Then I noticed some peculiar non-verbal interaction between him and Victoria, and it made him clam up. 

“You have thirty minutes. Girls, come here in front, boys rear desk is yours. It can be a mundane crime, but I want you to be thorough with the storytelling, clues, witnesses and evidence on the crime scene. Less is more sometimes. Don’t forget. And if you plan a twist, make it real. My neighbour is a serial killer is not original. I’ll also take in considerations if the crime scene you’ll create actually could come into life.”

We gathered at the front desk, and it all came über fascinating that I didn’t even mind Victoria was around for this task. Actually, we have no interactions since forever. I didn’t exist for her. Which I was pretty happy about for more than one reason. Some I was reluctant to admit.

“I have no clue how to do this. I’ve never played any board game.” Dana admitted worriedly.

“No prob, sweetie. Just stay out of the way. We’re going to crush them.” Kristine exclaimed. “So, bank robbery, that’s actually a distraction, it isn’t about the robbery. It’s about a rich man who hid evidence of his corruption in one of the safe deposits in the bank.” I couldn’t say I was terribly in love with Kristine’s ideas. “And the manager is covering for him. Because they have a business together in Seychelle Island. And the assistant of the manager has this boyfriend who owns money to the loan shark. But she’s also sleeping with the manager and the rich man. And the manager and the rich man hire this boyfriend to be a fake burglar when his only job is to move the evidence from four different deposit boxes to another---”

“It’s too complicated. We can’t do it in thirty minutes.” Victoria, who was continually peeking to boys group, especially to Zachary I guessed, voiced all of my concerns.

“Shut up, bitch. You’re not even here with us, but there with your fuckboy.” Kristine shushed her.

“What-ever.” Victoria was still more concerned about Zachary situation than ours, and it pleased Kristine.

“So, this manager--” 

Her scenario couldn’t be executed in such a short time. And I wasn’t used to be vocal. Actually, I’ve never been vocal but last month made me realise I hadn’t come here to falter. Or to be indecisive. I had come here to rise. So I spoke. “Kristine, your ideas are great but what about we try--”

“Listen, Jax…” She wasn’t as harsh to me as she was to Victoria, but her words could be interpreted only one way. _Fuck off._

“Max, my name is Max.” Seriously? How difficult it could be to remember the name that contained three letters? At least she didn’t confuse me for some Kate.

“Yeah, of course, so Max. I appreciate your effort and your eagerness to participate in a common goal. But I want to win this and crush those pathetic boys. No offence, but please do not interfere.” I was shut down shamelessly. We had no time to spare for disputes, so I accepted the defeat for a greater good of course. But...

“Let her speak!” Victoria said in a way that only fool would dare to oppose.

“What?” We said unison. Me and punk princess. Kristine was pissed. I experienced goosebumps reunion.

“We’re going to listen to her, and if her suggestions don’t work, we’ll do it your way,” Victoria claimed, still glaring at Kristine. If stares could create a storm, it would be already happening. Because it must be clear to anyone who was watching them, her proposal wasn’t for discussion. For a moment, vivid images of bloodshed came to my mind. Fortunately, Kristine retreated.

“Fuck. Fine. If it’s not your ideas that are involved, I’m cool.” She said utterly missing the point that Victoria’s ideas were definitely involved.

I explained what I wanted to do and had the support of Dana immediately. Kristine looked like she rather stuck a pen to her eye than admit anything was better than bank robbery scenario. Her desire to win was stronger than her pride, although so she agreed to do it my way, eventually.

After twenty minutes I felt my t-shirt stuck to my body. I was sweaty and drained but hopeful we did a good job. Dana and Kristine looked equally exhausted but also thrilled. Boys, on the other hand, they got me an impression they had built a piece of wardrobe from IKEA that looks nice at first sight, but no one would put their money on it. Because they did not look at the manual once. And as a result, too many screws came out unused.

And Victoria… Well, she was her usual I look hot in uniform Victoria. We were the first to uncover the mysterious crime and boys’ scenario. The mass murder in the shopping centre was definitely ambitious but rushed and predictable, which served to our advantage. We found all four clues because they weren’t able to create more and solve the mystery with ease. Our scenario about the stolen bike from the cellar of apartment building seemed trivial. But the twist with methamphetamine lab got boys on their knees.

“Pew.” I mimicked the gunshot with my hand pointed to Zachary. “You died.” Then turned to the rest of the boys. “Boom,” I said dramatically, and I replaced the gunshot show with opening the palms of my hands suggesting the explosion. “You, too. You, too. And I’m sorry to say that, Warren, but you too. Game over.”

“What the hell?” Drew snapped.

“Girls won.” Professor Heywood explained.

“But how?” Trevor asked in disbelief.

“You,” professor Heywood pointed at Zachary, “didn’t notice the armed drug dealer and you,” then to Drew “underestimated the gas leak. The spark from gunshot ignited the gas and caused the explosion you all died. And 27 other people.”

“Damn, I was sure we should not use guns when going inside,” Warren muttered.

“Did you say? No, you didn’t. You could save your squat and people in the there. You killed them instead.” Professor Heywood scolded.

“But I--”

“Girls, you didn’t disappoint. Boys, next time, swallow your pride and work together as a team. Bigger is not always better.”

“Girl power,” Kristine shouted and raised her hand. I didn’t realise she intended to high five with me. Fortunately, Dana clapped with her happily. 

“Decent job, Max.” Professor Heywood spoke to me, and I felt incredibly proud. “I’ll see you next week.” He added more loudly so the whole class could hear it. Drew and Zachary were complaining about how not fair our victory was, because the alien invasion is more likely than our crime scene scenario. Before he left the class for good, professor told them than unlikely doesn’t mean impossible.

The adrenaline rush was still strongly present, but I realised I had no idea what got into me to act like that. Such _theatrical show_ was expected from Kristine or Victoria perhaps. Dana even. But not me. But I couldn’t help myself. I had felt confident, and the more clues boys had missed, the more excited I had gotten. And it was such a great feeling to be finally good at something. People noticed, too. My classmates swarmed around me to appreciate it. Dana, Warren, Kristine. Then Trevor, even Drew stopped by. And suddenly I felt faint. The blood rushed to my face, and I hoped it won’t end in a nosebleed. That would kind of erase my self-confident performance. If my life depended on it, I couldn't tell what everyone was saying to me. The loud buzzing in my ears cancelled everything else. As a first step on the mission to not lose my unexpected fame before it even started was to remember how to breathe. The first couple of inhales definitely helped. The buzzing faltered, throbbing on the bridge of my nose eased, and my focus sharpened. And that’s why I become aware she was watching me. Victoria Chase didn’t move from her seat. She and Zachary were the only ones who didn’t join the lively discussion about our last assignment. Zachary was nowhere to be seen. He probably had run away, and now he was crying his eyes out that some _little kitty_ kicked his ass. Barbie girl Victoria although, didn’t move. Her face was straight, and her look intense. I wanted to go right there where she was sitting and spit some nasty words, about who is weak now.

Before the pride could get better of me, she actually proved that at this moment from two of us, she was the better person. And I was just a hammer looking for a nail. Blond Barbie girl, Victoria Chase gave me a genuine smile and thumb up. Then she packed her things and was gone before I could smile back. And oh, dog I wanted to. Weird.

The lively chat slowly moved from the classroom to the hall and then outside. I just went with the flow. Eventually, there were only four of us: I, Warren, Dana and Trevor. 

“We should celebrate what you say? Boys will buy us a drink, won’t they?” Dana gushed. 

“Definitely.” Warren agreed hyper-ventilated, and Trevor just shrugged. 

“I don’t know guys. I arrived in the car in the morning. Alcohol and driving don’t match in my world.”

“You can leave the car here and go back to dorms by tram and same way back to school tomorrow morning.” Dana came with a solution promptly.

Surprisingly I wasn’t totally against socialising, but the last thing I wanted was to face the possibility of heavy rain unprepared. 

“Lemme think about it,” I said and wanted to reach for the phone to check the weather forecast. Although I didn’t have to.

“What are we celebrating Super Max?” The familiar voice came from behind and only added to my recent thrill. I turned around, still finding it hard to believe she was here.

“Rachel?” Even when wearing a baseball cap and baggy hoodie, she was gorgeous as always. Rachel opened her arms for a hug which I gladly accepted. 

“It’s the actress. From _Universal Hospital_. Dr Hanna Grissom.” 

I wasn’t sure what was more unbelievable. Rachel in flesh right here or Trevor watching the medical drama she starred. 

“What are you doing here? Why you didn’t say anything?” I muttered to the crook of her neck.

“I did some shooting for L’oreal in town today. So I decided to stop by. And I didn’t tell you because you’d say you’re busy with Scrolls of War or whatever is the name of that online game you’re playing.”

“Probably,” I admitted absolutely delighted she tricked me and came to see me.

“So what are we celebrating.” Rachel lifted my chin and asked again.

“Before any celebration, I should check it’s safe.”

“It is. And I’m here with you, so it’s double safe.” She reassured me, and I knew she knew what I meant. 

“Well, let’s go then.” I grabbed her hand and we walked away from the Academy.

* * *

After the third drink, there were only me and Rachel left sitting at the bar. Trevor and Dana had said their goodbyes and Warren had been recognised and swooped by some ginger girl. Every cell in my body was emanating a soft hum. Weirdly, a pleasant one. Alcohol has never been my thing, but at this very moment, with Rachel around, with the successful day behind me and with light tipsiness, I felt great. Maybe the best I’ve ever felt. 

“Another round, ladies?” The bartender asked, and before I could decline him, Rachel spoke.

“Yes, please. Although the last one.”

“If I have another glass of wine Rach, I won’t be able to walk.” I laughed at the thought, but the possibility wasn’t implausible. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you back to dorms.” She reassured me and raised her glass. I hesitated thinking about what will happen when one desire too much of the good thing. “Come on, Max. You seem like you’re enjoying yourself.” But Rachel convinced me eventually.

I was enjoying myself. She was right. So I grabbed my glass, “cheers then,” and hoped I’ll be able to walk after another drink and if not, Rachel will keep her promise and carry me back. 

“Cheers. And now you’re going to tell me how thing’s going with the _Sports car.”_

“Sports car?” I thought she has a higher alcohol tolerance than I did. But suddenly she was talking nonsense. “I have no freaking clue what are you talking about, hun.” I giggled, but her response was a poker face. 

“Sports car that got you carried away, on the first day of the school. Secret code: Marvelous legs.”

And then I got it. Of course, she didn’t miss an opportunity to ask about this. Of course. 

“Can’t we skip it and talk about you and your bad guy lover Frank instead?”

“No.” She said, and I knew it wasn’t up to discussion. She’ll make me spill the beans whether I liked it or not. So, I decided to make it quick. 

“Well, as far as I know, she’s fucking around. Probably. With anyone but me. Which is good. Great, actually.” 

I took a sip of my drink, counting how many hearts had Victoria Chase broken from the beginning of the semester. And being actually glad mine hadn’t been one of them. And never will be. I had lots of issues. Lovesickness absolutely didn’t need to be added.

“Come on, Mad Max. It could be you in her bed. If you use your secret charisma.”

“Rach, are you cereal? I have a charisma of rotten apple.” She made me laugh.

“Oh, splendid. So you admit you want to be laid by this mysterious girl.” I made her satisfied.

Damn it, she tricked me. But I didn’t plan to go down easily. “I admit nothing, you traitor.” Her betrayal was rewarded by a gentle hit to the shoulder.

“Fine. Fine.” She pretended she shoved it off. But it was only another trick. I should leave it be, instead, I decided to defend my position.

“She’s hot, but that’s it.” And the more I spoke, the less convincing I sounded. “Because she’s mean and heinous and not in the world I want to do anything with her.”

“Alright.” Rachel just nodded impishly and I for the sake of Gawd, couldn’t stop rambling.

“Anyway, it’s a moot point, even if I liked her. I can’t be with anyone. Remember Stella? Sweet and nice girl, Stella?”

“Uh-huh, I remember her.” Rachel was enjoying this, obviously. And surprisingly, I didn’t mind. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or definitely. “You didn’t like her.” She teased.

“I DID like her.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Rachel Amber, stop.” I tried to stay adamant even when it was clear to her, and more importantly also to me, that I was lying. “I did like Stella, I just didn’t like the idea of commitment. That’s why it didn’t work.”

“Max Caulfield, you didn’t like Stella, and that’s why you didn’t like the idea of commitment. You never beamed when you talked about her. And now, every time you mention how you don’t like that mysterious girl with marvellous legs, you are lit. Besides no one saying anything about commitment. You can just enjoy yourself. And sex.”

I blamed it on the alcohol, but it was undeniable that the idea of liking my barbie girl classmate didn’t sound as repulsive as before. 

“I’m tipsy, that’s why I beam. I admit she’s hot, okay but that’s exactly where we should drop this. Victoria doesn’t even know my name. She called me Kate. It’s not even close to Max.”

“Victoria, so that’s her name. Oh, joy. Victoria and Max. We need a ship name.”

“Racheeeel! Stop, or I’ll tell everyone you’re the actress from Universal Hospital.”

“Maximum Victory. Sounds great to me.”

“Rach, Oh, Rach. Don’t bite off more you can chew. Trust me you’re barking up the wrong tree with this one. Victoria loves the dick.”

I finally muted her. From her expression, I could tell she was trying to resist, but let it go eventually. 

“My, my. You know I would bite the bullet for you, but okay, I surrender. It’s a lost cause. I get it.” Rachel finished her drink and put some bills on the bar. To her disapproval, I did the same. I wasn’t a new shining star of Universal hospital, but I could pay my bills. 

“Come I walk you to the dorms.” She linked her arm with mine, and we got out of the bar into the warm autumn night. “And we’ll find you a nice sexy girlfriend instead of this Victoria.”

I laughed and leant closer to her. “I don’t need a girlfriend Rach. I have you.” She didn’t oppose and held me close. It took us good forty minutes to reach the dorms. The walk was actually welcomed and sobered me a bit. To my liking, Rachel didn’t mention anything related to my love life, and the whole time she was talking about some adorable puppy called Pompidou. In front of the entrance, I felt so delighted I jumped right into her embrace.

“Thanks for today. It was amazing.”

“Same, Mad Max.” She squeezed me tight, and I thought the whole day was like a dream. I as leader of the team. And a successful one. Rachel coming to visit. Not to mention I had spent my afternoon in the pub not brooding over my chart. The flow of unreal events wasn’t about to stop, though. When I left Rachel’s embrace and was about to enter the dorms, I almost clashed with two girls coming from the other side. I froze. One of them froze, too.

Everyone knew gaping at someone made you look like a retard. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help. The shorter auburn-haired girl with dragon pendant and sad eyes was leaning into the taller one. Blond hottie in oversized Ajax hoodie and yoga pants. They were holding hands, the taller one looked highly overprotective of, the shorter one. 

“Sorry, guys.” Said Rachel apologising we kind of run them over. “We were a bit into each other and didn’t see ya. “ She continued and pointed to the entrance door. “Go ahead.”

“No harm done.” Said the taller blond girl but her eyes were fixed on me. Same as mine on her.

“What was that?” Rachel asked after the couplish girls were long gone, but I still stuck to my place. “Max, what’s going on? Do you know them?” She insisted.

“No. Yes. I mean, I--”

“It was her, wasn’t it?” Rachel screamed in awe. “The Victoria girl.”

“But it doesn’t make sense!" And despite that, I really tried to make sense of it. Victoria didn’t live in dorms, and she didn’t suppose to hold hands with another girl. And my tired, tipsy brain got overload at once.

“See, Super Max. Nothing’s impossible. Victoria definitely doesn’t seem to be liking D that much.”

“I don’t think I can deal with this right, now.” I sighed and laughed at the whole situation. “I need a bed.”

“Frank won’t be here to pick me sooner than in half an hour. Would you mind if I read you a bedtime story in the meantime.” Every moment with Rachel was precious to me, so I took her hand a lead her to my room. 

After a quick moment in the bathroom, I changed into pj's and crashed to the bed. Rachel was already waiting for me.

“Alice in Wonderland or the Wonderful Wizard of Oz?” She asked, holding two gems from my bookshelf. 

“I think I’ll fall asleep in ten seconds, so…” I pulled her to bed. “Could we just snuggle a bit?”

“You love it here, don’t you?” She asked when I made myself comfortable in her embrace. “At Academy.”

“It’s not bad.” The start was rough, but it was getting better every day.

“What about the Victoria girl?” Victoria Chase. Enigma. Unanswerable riddle. Or superficial professional faker, who is no different from zillion other girls addicted to approval? Girls who have only one goal in life, to be followed and admired and didn’t hesitate to use any method to achieve this goal. 

“I’d fuck her.” I smiled into the crook of Rachel’s neck, and somehow I knew she was smiling, too. “If she wasn’t fucking every boy around.”

“From the way she kissed the other girl’s forehead today, I don’t think she’s fucking any boy, Max. Fucking with them, probably. Fucking them, hardly.”

“As if you knew anything about these things, Rach.”

“I know everything about these things.” She said and kissed my hair. Rachel played both teams, that was true and also knew how to use her beauty and charm to her advantage. Did it mean she could distinguish a preference of others with certainty? It had been only a couple of moments I had an opportunity to catch Victoria with that girl. Still, she was a totally different person than Victoria with Zachary, S.W.A.T. guy or Sports car driver. There were no forehead kissing and hand-holding involved. Yes, she had allowed the Sports car driver to hug her on the first day, but he delivered a tenderness, not she. Same with Zachary when she had been laying in his lap. Rachel had a point. Everything suggested Victoria was only toying with them. Taking what she wanted. But with the girl... She was protective of her. She cared. That was undeniable. But even if Victoria Chase wasn’t fucking around, even if she wasn’t exclusively into boys and her taste in women was somehow unexpected, there was no guarantee she’d be interested in me. Especially if she was as close with that girl as it looked like. So there was no point in thinking about the subject, discussing it or open the topic ever again. 

“I told you I don’t need anyone. I have you.” I snuggled closer with Rachel and the sleep overcame me.


	6. Trials and Tribulations of Supposed Straight Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially, I intended to tell the tale of the whole first year at the Academy from Max's point of view without switching. To keep the tension. And just after that showing Victoria’s side. Although after I finished the drafts of both parts, Max’s first year ending with a major cliff-hanger, I changed my mind. I realised probably no one would wait for another ten chapters for the resolution, going through the whole year again from Victoria’s point of view. Just hate her at once. And me. And the story :) And I would most likely lose all ten readers.
> 
> So, I adjusted the split and keep it only for the first month. After that, the POV’s are going to be switching regularly.

**Victoria Chase**

**Monday, September 16, Day 1, Year 1**

My eyes slid up to the centre console and I realised Jamie‘s car had already stopped. We must have been in the parking lot for a couple of minutes.

„You're thinking about her, aren’t you?“ Jamie finally dared to speak up but I only shrugged. What could I say? To some extent, I was always thinking about HER. Kate Marsh. On the days like these, the thoughts were rather consuming. I felt his piercing green eyes on me. He knew. Jamie Alistair, my older brother, wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed. His handsome muscular body, irresistible smile and a soft heart. Those were qualities that defined him. Not cleverness. He was a football player after all. Yet, he was well aware of how much short-circuiting was going on in my head at the moment.

“Thanks for the ride.” I blurted and escaped from the red Bentley New Continental GT V8 before he could blink. There was no point in having this conversation. It would not solve anything. It would not help anything. The sole solution to this outburst of guilt and self-pity was patience. A lot of the deep steady breaths and none of the useless rambling convincing me that what had happened to Kate Marsh wasn’t my fault. It was. Nothing could change that. I had to accept it as a fact and live with it. And it better come soon because almost six years had already passed.

I barely could make two and a half steps away from red Bentley when my wrist was captured, and I was pulled back. It was naïve of me to think Jamie will let it go, just like that.

“Vicky, please.” He locked me in his arms and the truth was I could use a bit of affection. “You are not responsible for her—”

“Don’t, just don’t.” My forefinger landed on his mouth. Some form of soothing was welcomed. Needed. Talking although, absolutely not. He finally accepted what was obvious and we stood in silence.

“You need to do some _DECONFUSION_. Separate those correlated data in your brain. Because in reality they simply do not match. And then you’ll move on.” He recalled after the prolonged moment, kissed my hair and released the hug.

“Where did you get that? Should I be worried?” I looked up and even when I was far from being thrilled to bits I must chuckle. I loved my big brother greatly but I find it hard to believe his simple football player brain understood words correlated and deconfusion. Hell, even I was confused about what deconfusion truly meant.

“Well, I’m watching this tv show. Medical Drama. Universal Hospital. And there is this doctor. She--”

“Okay, Alright. Since you didn’t join some DECONFUSION cult just heard it on TV, I don’t need to know details.” I stepped out of his embrace. “I should go if I don’t want to be late on my first day at the Academy. And if you’ll sit in the car and watch me till I enter the building like I was some schoolgirl in elementary I promise cruel revenge.” I mustered all the good spirit I could find and gave him one of my significant smug smiles.

“Fine, fine.” He raised both of his hands in defeat, obviously happy that my gloominess was fading. 

“So be gone, before a swarm of your fangirls and fanboys appears.” I shoved him off gently.

“As you wish, my queen. I’m out.” 

He laughed heading to the red Bentley appeased by my change of attitude. I didn’t feel that self-satisfied, actually but he didn’t need to know that. No one did. Despite what had happened in the past or maybe because of it I was well aware that this world was about the survival of the fittest. And when I couldn’t always feel like I make it I could always fake it. I waved at Jamie, who was already in the car and sauntered towards the Academy of Law enforcement, Crime science and Police training. The Bentley New Continental GT V8’s engine had a very specific sound. The sound that I neither heard on my way there nor caught when I walked up the marvel stairs and entered the building. Part of me was enraged about his overprotective behaviour, the other although pleased that there were people around who still cared about me. Despite what I had done. I intended to check the app on my phone with a timetable to figure out where exactly I should head for my first class but burst with anger instead.

“Shit!” I bellowed and a few heads turned. I ignored them. My concern was that I couldn’t check my timetable, not those around. Because the phone was in my purse and my purse which also contained my phone stayed on the passenger's seat of Jamie’s car. I turned on my heels and dashed back outside. He could still be there. He had to. I danced around people coming through the automatic sliding doors and left the building.

And then it happened. I had no idea that this encounter was the beginning of separating those correlated data in my head, as Jamie addressed it. Nor in that moment neither many weeks after.

She came from the side. That’s why I didn’t notice. We clashed. It took some effort, but I saved us from the fatal fall down the marble stairs. I planned to be mad. Scold her, at least. Albeit the fruit of my effort not only saved us both, but brought her right into my embrace. Our bodies connected, and I inhaled her scent. I froze, seizing the hold of her shoulders, pondering about if the thirsty could avoid an oasis. The slight tremor in my lower belly made me realise it had been months since I was this close to a woman. Well, to a woman who wasn’t my straight best friend Taylor Christensen. And to a woman who… bummer. I couldn’t even explain how everything about this particular female form touched me. As the tremor was intensifying another fact was proven to me. I desperately yearned the closeness of a woman’s frame. Withdrawal symptoms were clouding my mind, heating my body.

The girl lifted her head and glowered. She even said something but momentarily overwhelmed by the excess of the woman's company in my proximity I didn’t catch it.

“Huh?” I blurted. She gulped and licked her lips. Definitely and totally kissable lips. She just stared at me while I was counting the days of my period in my head intending to prove this outburst of lust was caused by hormones. I abandoned the days counting quickly although because I found her freckles more worthy of my attention. If I saw her walking down the street, she wouldn't catch my eye at all. Even if by some miracle she did I wouldn't consider her radiant or captivating. But at that moment under all the circumstances she stopped me in my tracks. The combinations of cute little freckles, her deep blue eyes and dainty lips struck me. I'd go for the kiss right away if we were in the dark corner of a random bar, or gallery. And very much likely fall in love with her, too in no time. Yeah, that’s exactly what the pathetic little ol’ me would do. And then, when I would believe it’s different for this time, she would reveal some nasty fly in the ointment. Like that she’s leaving for the expedition to Jupiter and never coming back. Or that she has multiple personalities and one of those hates me, so she cannot be with me. Or something super classy. Like she’s married or not gay, really. Just the heterosexual woman who happened to be infatuated with an idea of being with another woman. Yeah, same old bullshit. The curse for what I had done to Kate Marsh.

"I gotta go." Her words cut all the possibilities, which was great. Fantastic, actually. Because I was already so sick of that freaking crazy repeating pattern in my life and so done with it.

"Yeah, me too." I spat and ran away from her.

No Jamie, no phone, no purse. I had to turn on the survival mode a.k.a. the bitch mode. I looked around carefully and spotted a young man standing nearby just ending his call. He noticed me. It would be inappropriate to say he was undressing me with his eyes but he definitely wouldn’t mind if I’d show the slightest hint I didn’t mind. Tall, athletic, brown hair, blue eyes, complacent expression. He didn’t doubt he got a shot with me.

“Hello, handsome.”

“Hi, beautiful.” He took the bait and it cost me almost no effort. 

“Would you kindly lend me your phone?” I took it without shame “I have to call my boyfriend and I appeared to be phone-less.”

I gave him one of my sincerest fake smiles and dialled the 9 digit number. Jamie Alistair wasn’t my boyfriend. He was my older brother. Everyone sane, everyone perceptive, everyone who has brains….inside their head, not in their pants, like this young man could recognize it easily. So I was sure, my deception will go unnoticed, even when he will see us together eventually. 

_“Hello?”_

“It’s me. I forgot my p--”

 _“I know. I noticed. I’m driving back. Be there in the second.”_ He hung up and I already saw his over expensive car approaching.

“Thanks.” I fetched the phone back to the handsome guy and before he could say a word I turned on my heel and headed towards Jamie.

He pulled in and the window on his side rolled down.

“Here, luv.” He handed me the purse smiling. “What would you do If I did not exist spending all my money on this super-speedy Bentley.”

“I had no clue. Probably live in a world that is less polluted with your self-esteem and emission of this ugly car.” I teased.

“Charming as always, aren’t you? Well, break a leg and call me, ok?”

“Sure thing, J. Thanks and bye.” I waved him goodbye and sped up towards the Academy.

“He’s not your boyfriend.”

“Urgh.” Seemed like the handsome guy refused to believe he was on the wrong track with his lousy attempt to seduce me. I kept walking. And ignoring him.

“If he was your boyfriend, you’d yell at him and blame him for the… well pretty much everything. Because you’d feel like he doesn’t love you enough when he didn’t notice you forgot the purse in the car. And he wouldn’t be smiling but be all anxious because he’d know you’re stressed and pissed on your first day and feel even more down without your precious purse and he expected to be yelled at not only because of the purse but because of something that happened three months ago.”

The handsome guy described most of the stereotypical relationships that passed beyond the pink glasses phase perfectly. Although I was in no mood for philosophical discussion. “What do you want Fuckboy?”

“Hey, you hurt my feelings.” He dramatically touched his chest, where the heart was supposed to be.

“As if you have any.” It was too soon to judge him. Also, he was observative, which meant not completely dumb. But from the little, I saw he could fit perfectly into the shoes of _I would fuck an open wound if there is no other opportunity to fuck_ kind. “Listen, carefully. Even if he wasn’t my boyfriend, even if I didn’t have one, even if you were the last man on the planet, I would not sleep with you. _Capisce?”_

“Fine, okay I get it. What about friendship? Do you do any?” We entered the building and he was still tailing me without being interrupted. So a student, too. Another good reason to get rid of him. 

“Why would I be interested in being your friend?” 

“Well, you’re new here I’m new here and trust me one can use a friend in places like this.” 

I stopped walking. There was something about the tone of his voice. Something sad. “Make sense, actually. But you haven’t convinced me. So the answer is no.” I didn’t need more friends and his next words only proved, he was exactly what I thought.

“Hey, I can, you know… there are benefits for you, too. I can sleep with your uglier friends instead of chasing after you. So I will not bother you anymore. If we were friends.”

“Oh, gross. You’re just gross. And I’m done talking to you.”

“Wait, wait. I was teasing you. You called me a fuckboy in the first place without knowing a single thing about me. Besides every man is gross, it’s in our nature. Same as in the nature of every woman is to be hysterical. None of us can help it. The whole secret about any kind of functional relationships between men and women is that men must try hard to not being gross around women when women not being hysterical around men.”

He sounded serene. But again, it could be only his advanced tactic of how to lay girls. “We may not even be in the same class, you should find a new friend there first.” I shoved him off again, but he was unstoppable.

“Even if I didn’t remember you from the entrance exams, which is not an option, by the way, your radiant beauty prevents it. So even if I didn’t remember you, I could easily figure out we are in the same class. You don’t wear a uniform, or a badge and I have a thoughtful eye.”

“For the love of God. What should I do with you?” I sighed. I knew he was right.

“Probation? And if you still find me not a friend material, you can kick me in the shin.”

“Deal then. Your first task is to walk us to the class.” He just smiled and led the way like he knew this place from scratch.

“So not the slightest interest in me. You’re either a lesbian or--” He blurted and I totally flushed. “Oh, fuck. You are lesbian, aren’t you? Damn! Well, good for you, as you said before. Men are gross. Although I’m not sure if two hysterical women are the better combination. Anyway, I’m positively shocked. I thought it would be the latter.” He concluded sympathetically. I had no clue why his revelation got me off balance so easily. He wasn’t judging me or making fun of me. Surprisingly. And even when people definitely didn’t consider me as one often I was an out lesbian like forever. And never had a problem with it. We were living in the freaking Netherlands. You could legally buy a weed cookie for breakfast, on your way to work. And services of the hooker when going back home, afternoon. Only top-notched retard would have a problem with homosexuality.

I looked at the handsome guy. Did he belong to that category? He wasn’t about to say anything more, giving me the time to react.

“So, no nasty remarks? No macho talks how I haven’t met the right man, yet?”

“Well, I don’t want to ruin my chances you’ll allow me to watch you making out with your girlfriend.”

“Jesus. You, perv!” I almost slapped him but again, he turned the idiocy into wit once more.

“Easy. I was joking. I’m actually glad you’re into girls. It’s not a complete loss for me then. Because I still can hold the thought that in some alternative reality where you’re straight I’ll win your heart and outmatch all other men. In this one I yield, I can’t compete with girls obviously. Don’t have the right equipment.”

“You’re weird.” He was probably the weirdest guy I’ve ever met.

“Aren’t we all?” He stopped and glanced at the door in front of him. It was probably our classroom. And the class was about to start soon. I needed to check myself in the bathroom and I needed to be on time, not having an endless conversation with him, yet the curiosity got the best of me.

“I don’t know why I’m even asking. But you said you thought I will be the latter, not the lesbian. What was the latter?”

“The mistress of an older sophisticated man who has an overly hysterical wife and sexy brain and loads of money of course. And you’re discussing Descartes drinking expensive wine on the vacation in his villa on Amalfi.”

“That’s gross. Even grosser than you. Is this how you see your future?”

“Absolutely not. But you’d be surprised how many young women are into that. I find it gross too by the way. So we are on the same page finally. At least.” Strangely, I believed him.

“Listen…”

“Zachary.” He offered me his hand. I didn’t accept it.

“Zachary, I need a bathroom. Thank you for walking me. I’ll see you in the class.” I said and moved towards women’s restrooms.

“I’ll save you a spot next to me.” He cried.

“Please don’t.” I kindly dismissed the proposal when leaving the hall. 

Restrooms were bright and spotless. Definitely lacked a high school aura. But then again, everything seemed perfect here in Academy. Just in the right place. Flawless and fully functional. People came here to work hard not to detest this place. I refreshed my face with a huge amount of freshwater and looked in the mirror. My light make-up needed a bit of adjustment, but cool water somehow helped to get me back on tracks. When I was sure everything about me was impeccable, I checked my armband. The class had started 2 minutes ago. Well, it was right next to the restroom. I still could be lucky and believe professor Heywood didn’t arrive, yet. I took a deep breath and opened the door. The armband buzzed. My guts flipped. I wasn’t lucky. He was there. 

“Fashionably late,” I said with grace before he could admonish my misdemeanour and sat next to the Zachary guy I had met earlier. It was the closest spot to the entrance and there was no need to cause any more fuss with seeking a suitable sitting place. I had no idea if my charm worked or if the professor didn’t care, but my late arrival was quickly forgotten. He gave a brief introduction, which I was thankful for. Everyone was focused on him and I could steady my heartbeat. 

I took out the notebook from my bag and planned to pretend I was making notes. From what I knew professor Heywood had a very limited ability to see. He was injured in the line of duty or something and because of that, his vision had been deteriorating slowly. But it was also known he was a perfect example of the case when one sense falters the others strengthen. So I believed professor Heywood had ears only for the boy who was talking widely and tediously about why he decided to join this program. And it meant I had time to check my phone, which had been buzzing in my purse since Jamie had given it back. It was not my intention to be that girl who’s stuck to her phone instead of paying attention to the lecture. That’s not why I was here. Unfortunately, it was an emergency. Besides this was only the introduction. Who cared what brought the guy who wore t-shirts on another t-shirt here?

_Am I gay?_

Said the last message delivered. Well, that was a tricky question. Taylor Christensen has been my best friend since I could remember. We had met in Kindergarten and the rest is history. It had been almost twenty years but never in those years she had shown any inclination towards women. On her twelfth birthday party, we kissed as a part of truth or dare. Then she had been asked in the truth round if she liked it. _No offence but I rather kiss Nick Jonas._ She had said. Of course, I had been asked the same question right after. _No offence but I rather kiss Demi Lovato._ We both had burst into laughter and it had been settled. _Cool, we can be BFF forever because we will never steal other gf/bf._ I had concluded. It hadn't been that simple, actually, for a moment it had felt like a hard to swallow pill (that she wasn’t into me). But on the other hand, it only made a bond between us stronger. It probably hadn’t been the only thing that had helped our friendship to flourish. Nevertheless, it had definitely served us well and we never had had that _I liked him first_ fight. Taylor Christensen was the most awesome friend one could hope for.

_How I did not notice for my whole life I could be gay? Especially with you around._

Another message popped on the screen. I felt flattered she mentioned me but I also felt a great responsibility. I opened the whole conversation and read all the unread messages. 

So, Taylor had this massive crush on her lesbian classmate. It had started as a harmless chatter and continued as a nice friendship. The friendship that had brought a strange warmness from the very beginning. Anyway, two years ago when they had met Taylor had had this handsome fuckbuddy called Chad, Tad or whatever. Steph, the object of her affection, had had a long-term girlfriend. Now Chad/Tad and long-time girlfriend were forsaken past. And Taylor heterosexuality more fragile than ever. 

“What about you, young lady.” Professor Haywood was talking to me I presumed because he approached our desk. My memory resumed his inquiries from a couple of moments ago. 

_Three questions. Be short and precise. What’s your name? Why did you choose to study this programme? Do you consider yourself as a person with strong morals?_

I gave him a lingering look. He wore black glasses. One didn’t have to be a technical genius to notice, those weren’t regular ones. But I had no chance to know to what extent it improved his senses. The faltering vision or the others. 

I stood up swiftly. “Victoria Chase. I look smoking hot in uniform. And no.” And sat down with the same drive. I told the truth and it was absolutely unnecessary to elaborate. Especially with the urgent buzzing of the phone in my hand. 

“Don’t you think it’s kind of essential for the carrier you choose? Following the moral compass.” 

That was a hit below the belt. Professor Heywood required more. Which I didn’t understand. He knew everything. I had told him in the interview. Dad was acquainted with him and had warned me to not lie. So, I hadn’t done it but no way I’m going to spill my beans in front of these strangers. _So how do I do this without lying and revealing the truth at the same time?_

“In all honesty morals are a construct of society. Thus fallible. Neither can be essential, nor objective.” I said calmly, hoping it’ll appease him.

“Can you give us an example?” It didn’t. I sighed.

“Was Jean of Arc a heroine who stood against oppressors who invaded her country or was she a delusional heretic? Were her prosecutors the righteous ones or simple murderers? Did Donald Trump really intend to make America great again and should he stand alongside other Founding fathers or is he a narcissistic moron who should be judged for treason? Is Geert Wilders a plain fascist or right-wing liberal, the saviour of Dutch national identity?” I believe my comprehensive speech will be enough for him.

“Interesting. What do you consider as essential then for a police officer if not a strong morals?” It wasn’t. No matter what I said he demanded more. It was frustrating for lots of reasons but mostly because now I was sure everyone was staring at me. And being on the spot was the last thing I desired. So I decided to use a different approach. The one that always works. 

“With all due respect, professor Heywood, you said we are supposed to answer three questions. I already answered four. Besides, surely the others are impatiently waiting to express themselves, too.” And it worked. Finally, he let me be. I created a message to Taylor that had been growing in the back of my mind. The reassurance that everything is going to be alright. And even when sexuality is more complex than _Am I gay?_ she should not be thinking about it too much. Just go with the flow. I hit the send button and looked up just in time to see another person being interrogated. The girl sitting on the far side of the class. Bloody hell. It was the girl I had met on the stairs.

“Max Caulfield.” She started nervously. “My reasons are my own.” Her eyes were almost blurred. She was nervous as fuck. Everything about her screamed she didn’t belong here.

“So, you’re scared? Of your reasons? Or you fear to tell us?” And that retard Heywood just pushed. I hated him at the moment. She totally zoned out. And he kept pushing. I was watching her reaching for her pocket and she pulled out… A sour candy? He was lecturing her, and she thought that was the right time for sour candies? Well, it could be hope there was some badassery in her. Also, the peculiar lightning-shaped scar on the side of her right hand supported the badassery theory.

“Well, I guess I die.” She finally reacted to his preaching, mimicking the meme of an old guy in a red sweater. The class burst into laughter. I really really hoped it was well-placed sarcasm, not yielding. That she wasn’t that delicate and fragile girl attracting the bullies. The bullies and assholes like me in my 16th. Or plenty of drill sergeants that she will undoubtedly encounter because of her strange choice of the career. And the professor’s weird games when had allowed her in.

To my pleasure, another message popped on the screen of my phone. I gladly turned my attention to it. I didn’t need to be stressed by thinking about girls who couldn’t stand up for themselves. 

_I thought about eating her pussy and it didn’t feel weird. Or gross. It turned me on._

Yes, this was definitely a great distraction.

_But when I’m thinking about some other pussies it’s super EWW._

I was tempted to ask if Taylor thought about mine, too but then I decided I rather don’t want to know. Yeah, I was that kind of cliché who had had her first crush on her best friend but it was long gone and that crush had been strictly innocent without any pussylicking thoughts. We were far far past that and she was like a sister to me, now. 

_Maybe Steph doesn’t even like me._

_I mean being a lesbian doesn’t mean she likes every girl._

_God, what if she doesn’t like me?_

_What if she does?_

_Why is this happening to me?_

_What’s wrong with me?_

Unfortunately, I couldn’t say. I hadn’t seen the beginning of it. When Taylor had spent the last two years in Hauge, studying design at King's College I had been in Switzerland mostly and then with my rents in Maastricht. So this Steph had been just a random friend from college in the beginning. And somewhere on the road, just a friend of mine from college had become _THE friend of mine from college. THE friend who did this and did that…_ And when Taylor and I had been in Sweden together this summer she finally had come clean for the first time and admitted there had been something going on all the time. And then they had hugged at the end of the second year when she and Steph had been saying their goodbyes before the start of the summer. And the hug had been too long and too intimate. And Taylor couldn’t deny anymore, that her feelings are not strictly friendly. When we had come back from Sweden I had moved with her. I’d already known I was accepted for the Academy. And maybe it was a fate that brought us together again because a week ago she found out Steph was single and it ignited so many different flames inside her. And unleashed the suppressed attraction at full force.

_Nothing’s wrong with you. You just met someone who touched you deeply. And finally admitted it. And it’s confusing because you didn’t expect it could be a girl, who’ll cause these feelings of desire. She lit a fire in you, the fire that was only a little flame at first but now it’s scorching. And we make sure you’re not going to be burnt._

I texted back and suddenly I sensed some fire around me, too. 

“And yes I do have strong morals, unlike this barbie girl. Morals infallible. That’s what helps people to go on when surrounded by shady scums, like my father.”

Another future police legend had spoken. Barbie girl? That wasn’t very original. Neither was the punk rock princess attitude and look. It appeared she’s not going to be a fan of mine. This Kristine Prescott girl. I admit I might have sounded like a pretentious asshole earlier. But it was true. I was a bad person and fraud who was given a chance to redeem herself. If this girl in black thought that I was attention whoring it was her problem, not mine. I called Shakespeare to my help and appealed to her rationality, although I didn’t know if it reached her. And frankly, I didn’t care that much. Because…

_Maybe you could kiss me and I will know if I’m into girls, too._

Taylor was completely losing her mind. 

_I did kiss you already, remember? You didn’t like it._

I replied immediately. She’d never been such a mess. Bubbly, funny, supportive not giving a damn about bad shits. That was my girl, Taylor. Even when the Kate Marsh thing happened she hadn’t lost her wit. Yeah, she had immediately admitted our part in it. Ours. Even when there was only mine part. My guilt. And she stuck around the whole time even when she could easily turn her back on me. 

_Well, what if Nick Jonas weren’t around. Would I still not like it?_

I believed I was open-minded and understood the fact that human sexuality is fluid. But I hardly could be any expert. Quite the opposite. I only liked girls. I liked pussies, I liked boobs. No. I loved them. Their luscious lips. And soft skin. Oh my, the softness always got me. It’s always been like that. The woman’s body was a temple for me. I adored it and couldn't imagine I’ll change teams and go for men. And not long before I couldn’t imagine Taylor would have a change of heart either. Yet, there she was swooning over the geek girl instead of some testosterone bunch of muscles. I had to meet this Steph. And I needed to see them together and figure this out.

_Babe, have some chocolate and keep it cool. I have a plan. No kissing involved. Or Nick Jonas. I’ll tell you in the evening. We’ll figure this out. I promise._

Some heated debate was going around, I noticed involuntarily. Because the punk princess had an incredibly strong voice when she was doing her social justicing. 

_You always do. And that’s why I love you._ _No more messages today. See ya in the ev._

And the heated debate around me was becoming more and more heated and it had nothing to do with the class. But with.. what? Geert Wilders? Suriname natives? What? Hedge funds? Maybe it was because I was no longer involved in cajoling Taylor, that there’s nothing wrong with her or maybe it was because the punk princess’ voice was the perfect tool if someone desired to get a migraine but I raised my hand and intervened. 

“No offence professor Heywood but you let them fight for eternity. You are a teacher, aren’t you supposed to watch over us?”

I was pushing my luck with him. Obviously. Couldn’t help it though. He was getting on my nerves. He was supposed to be the exceptional police officer and a forensic scientist. The creator of this program. Some creator. I had so little patience with those who couldn’t admit they were wrong, myself included. And he was just doing one wrong thing after another, hiding behind some stupid glasses and it fucking annoyed me. And then he just left telling us we performed poorly and if we won’t get better our class will be disbanded. What the fuck?

“Hungry, luv? I know a great sushi place.” Said the Zachary guy. How could he talk about food when this whole thing was such a disaster so far. I had no other purpose in life than to be here at Academy and become an elite police investigator and professor Heywood just left like it meant nothing to him. 

“Call me luv, again and I swear…” I was so down I couldn’t even come with a proper burn.

“Hey, don’t go hard on me. We are about to be friends.” He tailed me again. “And that sports car driver called you luv, so I’ve just thought it’s a proper friend nickname. Besides, you didn’t tell me how they call you.”

As much as his introduction speech at the beginning of the class had sounded like he rather vomited razorblades than to be here, his _police_ skills were honed greatly. 

“I don’t like sushi.” I spat.

“Yes, you do.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“You wish.”

Sushi was cool actually. And he wasn’t that annoying as I wished him to be. And I was definitely hungry because I couldn’t stomach anything in the morning. 

“If the sushi place isn’t outstanding, our friendship trial is over.”

“Of course it is. You addressed me as a fuckboy, you must see strong sushi abilities in me.” He linked his arm with mine. Despite his smug words, I felt… loneliness. He wasn’t honest about lots of things, but he wanted me to know he felt as lonely in the task he was supposed to fulfil (whatever it was) as much as I felt in the one I had chosen. 

  
  
  



	7. An Unruly Deal

**Victoria Chase**

**Friday, September 20, Day 5, Year 1**

I shut the locker but barely paid any attention to my surroundings. Self-defence class was indeed a very pressing and stressing matter, but recently, my mind was occupied by something unexpected.

“You know, I can’t on the weekend. What about Fika after school today?” Holding my phone close to my ear, I replied to Taylor's suggestion to do some wellness on the weekend. I spent most of my weekends with my footballer brother Jamie either in Amsterdam or when they have an away game, somewhere away cheering for him there. 

_“It’s only called Fika when you do it in Sweden.”_ She teased. _“But okay, we could do some almost Fika. I’ll wait at our place and then instead of massage and sauna, we’ll have biscuits and coffee.”_

“Alright. Love you, bye.”

I ceased the call but kept staring at the screen. There was a picture of two of us in Stockholm, being all cheerful. Now Taylor was a mess. We had slept little yesterday because we had been talking about her recent outburst of longing for women almost all night. Well, not women. Only one woman. Her classmate Steph. Taylor refused to talk with her about the attraction and doubted it could be mutual. Leaving the locker room was bringing me closer to the gym and to the undoubtedly strenuous physical activity, and the whole situation felt even heavier. My stamina was sufficient, I was no stranger to gyms, but this first week had drained me. And when I saw what professor Amaya Jiwe was doing to S.W.A.T. candidates, it surely didn’t help. I slid the phone into the pocket of the ugliest sweatpants and headed to the bleachers. 

“You look like shit. The cutest shit, but still.” Zachary smiled at me and was trying hard to not stare at my breasts. With a limited success. He sat a bit secluded from the rest of our classmates, so I gladly joined him. It also helped he was honest with me and saved some stupid picked-up lines. 

“I didn’t sleep much,” I acknowledged, rubbing my face.

“Tell me which bitch broke your heart and I'll break her neck.” He did some ninja pose, and I must admit he was warming on me. We had done some talking through the week and he wasn't a complete asshole.

“None. I don’t have a heart. I’m the bitch, did you forget?” His smile became even wider, but there was that weird sadness behind his eyes again.

“So what’s behind your sleepless night?” He required. 

“A relationship. Not mine, though. It’s complicated.”

“Sometimes I wonder if things could be not so complicated. At least for the moment.” Was he talking about a stranded and definitely complicated relationship with both of his parents? Or relationships in general? I was all for it, one way or another. For easy and simple instead of complicated. 

“That sounds amazing, actually. But I don’t see it as something real.”

“You know what must be super easy?” He skipped my lack of faith and went on his own. “And not complicated. Two gay men. I mean, there must be no drama between them because men are not hysterical like women. They understand each other. They’re not freaking overreacting when the other one wants to go out with friends, because they are bros also and probably have the same friends. And they are gay, so they’re not forced to prove their toxic masculinity 24/7. Did you ever give it a thought?”

I was a lesbian woman. Giving a thought to the occurrences like proving masculinity or how a relationship between two gay men works sounded like watching the games of thrones. Yeah, you’re right, I’ve never seen a single episode.

“I can’t say I did. Did you discover a latent gay vibe in you, that was sleeping for years?” Did everyone recently?

“No. I love vagina, cocks are not for me. But seriously, think about it. What’s better?” Maybe he was right and two gay men were a perfect example of non-toxic, non-complicated relationship, but I was too tired to give it any more thoughts.

“Taking a nap? Not doing what those guys on the mat are doing? Garlic bread?” I sighed.

“Come, ten minutes until the class starts. Rejuvenate a bit.” He bid me lay on his lap. And yesterday I would tell him to fuck off. Hell, maybe five minutes before I would tell him to fuck off, but it was now. Neither five minutes before nor yesterday. And I really could use stretching my tired limbs a bit. Which worked for a moment. Zach was a great pillow. But the punk princess Kristine Prescott, miss eloquent and outspoken, was obviously in urgent need to use her migraine summoning voice. Common sense was telling me to not react to her exaggerated opinions and forced social justice-ing. The risk of migraine and the previous sleepless night was stronger. 

“In your land of plain aggression, has it ever occurred to you that there is a legitimate reason women are not part of S.W.A.T. units?” I sat up and regretted my decision to join her dispute with Drew. All eyes were on me, Kristine’s would make me a goner if the look could kill and Drew thought I was taking his side.

“Well, come on! Tell me that reason, you cockmuncher. I don’t believe it exists. I bet you’d just say anything to get men’s attention.” She shouted.

Just say your point, don’t be dramatic and leave it be. If only it’d be that simple. But I tried.

“It’s a natural instinct for men to protect women.”

“Pff.” 

“Evolution speaks to them. They are controlled by primitive instincts. They know there will be no humankind without women. So they would not exist. When the woman is injured the man feels the urge to abandon any task and help her. Therefore, it cannot be allowed that such a situation would compromise the mission.”

Kristine definitely desired to prove me wrong. She couldn’t. I must proudly admit my argumentation was solid and rational. And she was full of emotions because the whole we hate each other thing with Drew was translating into hate-love, recently. She didn’t miss any opportunity to grind his gears. And he was more than eager to keep up with her. Most of the time equally out of place. Like today disputing about who's the better candidate for S.W.A.T. member. My phone rang, and I was glad the conversation about S.W.A.T. was over. Well, almost.

“These self-preservation instincts,” I turned to Drew, who definitely wasn’t a clever one in this case. Even when he was grinning like one, “has nothing to do with bravery. It makes men selfish and weak. And easy to control. Thus, technically Drew North, men are the weaker sex, not women.” 

I picked up the call and left the gym. And listened to Taylor’s contemplation about the newest text from Steph. 

“I need to go with this class first. And then we’ll figure it out. I know it’s hard to wait but--”

_“No. No. It’s cool. I know I’m a mess. And overreacting, but damn, no one ever made me feel like this. Oh, god. You have the patience of a saint with me. I would kick myself into the shin if I was you.”_

“Tay, don’t say that. Remember that first girlfriend of mine, the tennis player who utterly ruined me with her OCD according to staying in the closet. Or Anna. Anna, who was fucking married to Mark Jefferson and forgot to mention it. Or so many other times when I was a mess. And you always were there for me.”

_“Your shits were definitely bigger than mine, Vic.”_

“Exactly. Because I’m a lot more mess than you. And that’s why I know we’ll figure this out.”

 _“You’re the best Victoria Chase. Fika afternoon. Till then, ciao.”_ She hung up. I got sadder.

Damn. Kristine and Drew were fighting constantly about who was more righteous and the stronger sex and whatever. When at the end of the day we all were just broken instruments. Seeking for love and approval. And not getting it.

“Hi, gorgeous.” One of the S.W.A.T. guys crossed my path back to the gym. Hi gorgeous, really? As if this day hadn’t sucked all of my energy already. The guy was ridiculously handsome, no doubt. But compared to Zachary's situation from Monday, this one wasn’t even interested in me. He just wanted to show off in front of his toxic masculinity friends from the future S.W.A.T. squad. How some girls could be infatuated by such shitty behaviour was beyond me. I told him to fuck off. And barely made it to the mat, when professor Jiwe called the shots. I only had time to leave the phone in my sports bag before joining the insanity. 

Amaya Jiwe, the former UFC champion and our self-defence class teacher, was a perfect example of no-nonsense attitude. I would love to give everything in me, to make her proud. Usually. But not today. Many things weakened me, and I had to act wisely. So every time possible I slacked off. It was necessary if I didn’t desire to be on the verge of passing out. Or puke. And actually, I believed that was her point. First, it poured out as an intention to ruin us, but it showed as a test if we could make it to the end. Someone didn’t.

“Maybe you should go home, kitty. This is not for pussies.” Zach became opinionated about Max Caulfield's fall on her nose.

Damn this girl! Damn her! Why did she come here willingly? I hated Zach for mocking her and slapped him with full force, but fuck… this wasn’t a place for pussies. That was correct. And she kept failing and failing. Setting herself on fire in the lab on Wednesday, being all giddy around firearms and now semi-fainting. Couldn’t she see she was putting herself in the unnecessary risk of being bullied? I was so upset I barely made it through the rest of the class. Zach saw and followed me after. The perception was strong with him, but empathy wasn’t.

“Come on Vic, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mock her.”

He kept up with me when I was leaving the gym after the class ended. He must see the anger that was seeping out of me. 

“Yet, you did.” I spat.

“Okay, fine. I shouldn’t say that. But look at her. She obviously doesn’t belong here. Everyone sees that. If I had the freedom to NOT be stuck in this place, I’d jump in joy and run like hell. Fuck!”

He sounded desperate. We weren’t close, yet. Well, not that close. Like friends or something. But he mentioned a thing or two about how he didn’t share the same enthusiasm about being a police officer as his father did. To put it mildly. And I also noticed bruises all over his body, almost unnoticeable. The bruises that could be easily blamed on doing sports or sparring practice, not on the abusive father. And Fuck. There were only so many stories I could handle and his was beyond this rate.

“Just don’t talk to me. I’m pissed at you and exhausted and have no energy left for your petty excuses. I’ll see you on Monday.”

I cut him off by disappearing in the girl’s locker room. Super quick shower and being gone were the only two things on my mind. The shower went smoothly. Being gone, not so much. I put my clothes on and packed my things in a rush. And run to Max Caulfield in the doorway. She freaking apologised. I almost knocked her down, and she said she’s fucking sorry. What a great insult to the injury. She definitely acted like a scared, lost kitty. It threw me over the edge. And frankly, I had only a little idea what a word vomit came from my mouth until she was yelling at me that her name is not Kate but Max and she’s not weak. Fuck. For this time, nothing could stop me from fleeing. 

What a fucking first week it was. I only wished for minding my fucking business but somewhere along the line, I ended a pathetic deranged psycho. Splendid.

* * *

**Tuesday, September 24, Day 9, Year 1**

I closed the tab with Introduction to Administrative law notes and logged off from the school computer. Tuesday is my new “favourite” day in the week, I decided. Three super boring law lectures in the row and the last class that was waiting for me, Forensic chemistry, is going to be “the cherry on the top”. No doubt. I had gotten lucky last week because it had been cancelled. But the small comfort evaporated because I was about to face it, now. Rationally, I understood why I chose this as my optional class. The chemistry was my sore spot, my biggest weakness and the field I needed to improve the most. Nevertheless, it did me no good at this moment and I hated myself. And Chemistry. And rationality. I said goodbye to Zach, who was again on my good grace and on my way to the lab I briefly called Taylor. She was having coffee with some classmates. 

_“No, Steph isn’t around.”_ She stressed. My face fell. On Friday she had seen me all messed up and made me confess I had had a Kate Marsh related meltdown. I also had questioned my readiness to be an elite police investigator, my ability to be a decent human being and my emotional stability. And since then she had completely dropped the Steph thing, claiming it was nothing. Some confusing momentary infatuation that was already de-confused. She was lying. In her genuine effort to back me up, she was willing to suppress her own desires, and I would not allow that. I’m a Wreck moment had been gone and Max Caulfield had shown she’s not a complete pussy yesterday (especially her middle finger pointed to Jamie when he almost ran her over with his ugly car made me laugh). So I could draw a line under it all, erase her from my mind. Because she wasn’t weak and fragile and won’t be reminding me of Kate Marsh and of how much of an asshole I had been at high school. And I also made an extremely important deal with me, to not fall for her, now when I had seen her charming badass side. Because she was obviously getting close with the nerd guy from our class. Definitely a no-go zone. Bye, Max Caulfield.

 _“You can join us at Willow’s café after your class is over.”_ Taylor offered.

“Sure, Tay. See you.” I accepted without a second thought. Maybe the Steph girl will show up, too, and I’ll be able to make an opinion if the momentary confusion was really de-confused. But first I had to make it through Forensic chemistry.

“Hey, you.” A familiar hoarse voice greeted me in the lab. The S.W.A.T. guy from Friday. As if Forensic Chemistry wasn’t the pain in the ass enough. Although he didn’t seem as arrogant as before without his testosterone goonies around. Still, I was in no mood to talk to him.

“You surely got lost. This is an advanced optional class. Beat cops are gathering in Annex where they’re pumping their muscles and measuring their tiny penises.” I spoke with as much pity as I could gather. “But don’t worry, if you’ll stop breathing for a moment, you’d be able to engage your little brain in another activity and find a way there.” Maybe even too much.

“I’m special weapons and tactics in training, not a beat cop. Besides, when my days as S.W.A.T are over, I’m going to be a detective.” Blah-blah, I couldn’t care less. Unfortunately, even when I showed him my back, he couldn’t stop rambling. “Once you’re accepted for S.W.A.T. training, you can take as many optional classes as you want and can manage alongside the duty.” 

“What part of FUCK OFF I delivered to you on Friday you didn’t understand?” I turned and spat. If some girl told me to fuck off, I would bury myself six feet under and never, ever dare to talk to her. Some people got nerves. Was my first thought.

“Well, you girls are like that, aren’t you? You constantly need to be…” he threw two air quotes at me, ” conquered. It’s a push and pull game, we all do it all the time.” But the more he talked, the more his body language revealed. Things that were supposed to stay hidden. “So what about we skip push and pull part and start as lab partners? And maybe have a coffee after school.” And I was slowly coming to the conclusion he wasn’t interested in me as a woman. Definitely not. His eyes didn’t slide to my breast once. Nor my lips. He wasn’t lusting after me. Not at all. “And you’ll see I’m not a dick you think I am.” He gave me a soft smile. A genuine one. And it was the only sincere thing he did since we had met. If he didn’t want to fuck me, what was his freaking agenda?

“No coffee.” I shut him down. I sought no more drama in my life.

“Lab partners?” He refused to resign. 

“I already have one.” Heavens sent me a blessing because I spotted that super talkative nerd guy from my class who always wore a t-shirt over the t-shirt. “Warren!” I ran towards him and thanked all the saints for giving me such an overachieving brain because I remembered his name. “Hi Warren, come I’ve saved us a spot.” I linked our arms and dragged him to one of the free desks. The S.W.A.T. guy gave us the last glance, and it hit me like a hammer. When I put two and two together and identified the place where his eyes laid, eventually. Warren’s crotch. Bummer. That nerd guy was definitely equipped. The bulge in that particular place on the man’s body was the freaking last thing in the world that would have my attention. Normally. But now I couldn’t unsee it. Bloody hell. Gay. The S.W.A.T. guy loved the D. He looked up and gulped when he realised I caught him in a compromising situation.

“You’re gay” I mouthed subtly. If his skin wasn’t as dark as his secret I bet it’d get all shades of red. He found a seat as far as possible from us. And to my pleasure cut me out of his schemes, whatever they were.

“Chemistry Friends. Awesome!” Warren gushed.

“Look at me, pal.” I tried to not sound like a complete bitch. “Do I look like someone who can be nice to people and do friendships?” The sides of his eyes wrinkled. “Exactly. But you don't seem like a douchebag, so if you can put up with it, we can be functional lab partners.”

“I guess it’s not up for discussion.”

“It’s not. But when you’ll behave, I promise I’m going to tell you a secret. About why a t-shirt over a t-shirt is so last century.” I winked.

“What’s wrong with a t-shirt over a t-shirt.” He mumbled more to himself than to me, and the chemistry mayhem started. 

* * *

**Tuesday, October 8, Day 22, Year 1**

Another week passed, and I withstood the third class of Forensic Chemistry without making a fool of myself. What an achievement! Although, it was questionable if I’d be successful if it weren’t for Warren Graham. He definitely understood these scientific shits. And he also kept me away from the S.W.A.T. guy. At least on Tuesdays. Hayden was his name as I had unwillingly found out. So he didn’t dare to approach when we were shoulder to shoulder with Warren. Maybe because I had caught him staring at his pride. On Fridays before Self-defence Hayden appeared to be more daring. Last week he had sought me again. More subtly. And had been assured his private life is none of my business and I will not share it with anyone. He had thanked me. And freaking asked me for the coffee. Again. I must decline. Whatever his aim was, I couldn’t follow. I already wore too many hats. First, my own fucked-up brain. Second mission, Taylor. Who finally stopped playing it cool and admitted infatuation with Steph didn’t disappear. And last but not least, mission Zach. Which I still haven’t figured out, yet. He kept actively sabotaging his presence here at Academy. And at the same time, the hints he actually liked the police work were leaking, too. One couldn’t get a straight answer from him, but behind all the teasing and sarcasm, information or two popped up from time to time. My current guess was that at one hand, he desired to be kicked off. And hoped his tyrant First commissioner father will disown him because of that and he’ll be finally free. On the other hand, he didn’t hate the idea of being a cop that much. He was totally against the idea of being with the corps that his father represented, however.

“Have a good day, Victoria.” Warren’s despondent voice interrupted my line of thinking. I stared at his back and realised he only wore one t-shirt. He had seemed a kind of low spirited when the class had started, but the chemistry was his thing and brought a fair amount of excitement quickly. Now when it was over the melancholy was back. Peculiar, I thought. We weren’t friends or anything, but one would have to be deaf and blind to not notice his overflowing enthusiasm and eagerness spilling out all the time. It reminded me of the puppy that’s released to the world and dying to discover everything at once. Before I could give it a second thought, I was following him.

“What’s wrong, pal? Come on, spit it out. I know you want to.” 

He looked at me warily. As if me talking with him outside the Forensic chemistry class was equal to the alien invasion. Although, it didn’t stop him from spilling the beans. “Well, tomorrow is… I know it’s actually a good thing I will have a second chance if it’ll come to that. That I didn’t completely fail, but… I rather wish I wouldn’t fail. But somehow, I know I did, because… well, I’m not good with these things and. Fuck. I think I tried really hard when I shouldn’t. Should be less tensed about it and more at ease. But it stressed me from the beginning because it’s such a delicate process.”

It must be about that girl. Max Caulfield. He always found a place next to her. I supposed they had been on the date and he thought his over-talkativeness could be a yellow card and if he won’t improve it, red will follow. My guts twisted. I guessed it was because I was hungry. It must be it. It was late afternoon. My stomach was empty, that’s why it churned and tightened and made me uncomfortable. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Well, not a lump. I just swallowed. Because there was no lump in my throat, obviously. Why in the hell it would be a lump in there, right? I was completely fine. Nothing I just heard threw me out of balance.

“Hey, don’t be a downer.” My voice sounded weird to me, I continued nevertheless. “If she agreed to go on the second date, it’s on the good track. And if you get used to the idea that wearing only one t-shirt doesn’t lessen your stats and you don’t lose ten points of charisma but gain them, it all will go smoothly.”

“What? Whatcha talking about?”

“About your date with Max Caulfield. You’re seeing each other, no?”

“Gawd, I wished, but no. She doesn’t see me that way. Not now, not later, not ever. She made it pretty clear. And I respect that. Totally.”

“So what’s your issue then?” My mouth spoke but my brain got disconnected, opiated with the shot of endorphins. It must be the sun. Because we just went through the main doorway and left the Academy. Which meant an encounter with a beautiful sunny afternoon. And what could possibly be a better boost than a sunny day? That’s why I felt so delighted. No other reason. Max Caulfield not being involved with Warren had nothing to do with it.

“...so that’s it. The camera is not my sidekick, and I’m afraid it never will be. You should click the button and there should be a result in the picture's form. But it’s not that simple. And I had a really hard time to understand why. So I think professor Palmer is going to tell me tomorrow I failed the crime scene photos task and will have to do the freaking additional assignment.” Focus, focus, Victoria! He’s trying to tell you something. “Why are you smiling like you just got overdosed with narcotics? Are you going to make fun of me?” Warren's face scrunched and hit a new down. 

Did I really look like I’m on cloud nine? No, I didn’t. If I was smiling, it was only because… “I’m just happy you’re not sour due to the fact the girl doesn’t like you. Not everyone can like everyone. It’s an irreversible fact we all should accept. But If you’re not comfortable around a camera, that’s nothing definite. You can learn and improve in this field. And you’re lucky since I can show you the magic. And you’ll see photography could be amazing if you fall for it. You’ll see that every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.” 

I felt so ecstatic. Absolutely overjoyed. Because of the sun. Of course. Nothing else was behind it. Definitely.

“That’s great. Aaaand, you also lost me with the portrait thing. So let’s just wait if I failed first.” Warren smiled and hopped on his Vespa. I waved him goodbye and decided Taylor must come clean to Steph about her feelings. Or else she would go full mental. Or I will.

* * *

**Wednesday, October 9, Day 23, Year 1**

“Warren, sorry to disappoint, but you’re the one who has to do an additional assignment.” Said professor Palmer and honestly, it didn’t come out a surprise. Warren had sent me the pictures of the crime scene he had submitted. Only thinking about those made me shun them with fear my eyes are going to bleed. Or that I’m going to hit him. Because if I, for example, told him he is supposed to expose a thin silver-plated copper sheet to the vapour given off by iodine crystals, producing a coating of light-sensitive silver iodide on the surface (a.k.a. the daguerreotype), he’d knew what to do without thinking. But when he's supposed to take a picture respecting this paradigm or using his extended scientific knowledge and make a perfect clean shot, Warren.exe just stopped working.

The other .exe that was at risk to stop working too often was Zach. According to professor Palmer, his photos weren’t rated. Probably another sabotage attempt. 

“Send me your pics,” I whispered.

“My, my. Yesterday you were a lezzie queen and now you want my dicks pics.” I had enough of his teasing and stomped on his feet.

“Ouch.”

“Next time you’ll piss me I’d do this to your balls. Capisce? So come on, send me your assignment.” He hadn’t any more funny words at his disposal and was also in pain, so he just pulled out his phone and did as I commanded.

In the meantime, professor Palmer introduced the three best photos. Mine, Trevor’s and Max Caulfield’s. I only peeked at the screen behind him and then got back to my phone. The photos Zach had sent were pretty normal. Good quality, I would say. And then I noticed something and stomped on his feet again.

“You’re an asshole.” I hissed in the lowest voice one could use and still call it hissing. The pictures together created an obscene gesture. It took immense skill and imagination to achieve something like that in such a short time. “Why are you doing this? If you think I’m ready to replace you and allow someone else to do inappropriate jokes around me. Or acting like a dick, you’re gravely mistaken. So better keep it together and stop shooting yourself in the foot. Forget about that imbecile father of yours, will you?”

He just shrugged. Like it wasn’t important if he’s here or not and massaged the spot on his forearm. The spot with a fresh bruise. Clumsiness could cause it. Or someone holding you intense and long enough to engrave such mark not only into your skin but also into your brain.

“You might not care what’s going on with you, but I do.” It’s only been three weeks, and I wasn’t a person’s person, but somehow there was no doubt in me it was true. I cared about him, whatever it meant and however it happened. 

“Okay. Alright.” I met his eyes and saw genuine remorse. “I’ll apologise to professor Palmer and make it right.”

“You better!”

“Zachary?” He was called out and frankly, I was glad it wasn’t me because I had no clue what was going on around us in the last five minutes. 

“Victoria.” Zach offered and when professor Palmer said it’s two for Victoria and one for Max, I realised that was a vote going on, which photo was the best. 

Next vote belonged to Dana, and she picked my photo. And also gave me a cute little smile. According to what happened with Zach a moment ago, I didn’t feel like smiling much, but she absolutely deserved one back. She picked me over her boyfriend. Not like his photo was better than mine, but still. 

We had been paired together last week for this assignment. I could tell she hadn’t been happy. Neither with me being her partner nor with Trevor apart from her. And after 15 minutes into the class, when she still had done nothing except for staring at the crime scene where Trevor and Max Caulfield had been working together, I had spoken my mind. Politely. My concern had genuinely surprised her. The worry about if she’s going to finish the assignment. I had also provided certainty Trevor will do just fine with Max around. It had taken little to notice that the girl knew how to handle the camera. And it showed because her picture had a spot between the best three. So, yeah, we had kind of bonded last week. Me and Dana. She had even apologised that she thought I was an utmost bitch. It was hardly a positive occurrence because I had given the impression I was a bitch in the first place. Was it something that couldn’t be erased completely? The bitchiness? But Dana changed her mind about me, so maybe it could. 

“Victoria made the best shot so I’m voting for her.” Said Max Caulfield and I forgot about Dana. About contemplation if my bitchiness was definite or temporary. About Zach. About the entire world. I stole a glance at her. Maybe hoping she’ll do the same. But she didn’t. Why would she, though? I had yelled at her like a psycho. She probably wanted nothing to do with me. And I should respect that. And not stare. I knew I shouldn’t, yet I didn’t stop. 

She was strange. Max Caulfield. But not repulsive strange. Captivating strange. Puzzling. Hypnotising. Her obsession with sour candies. Her peculiar scar on the side of her right hand. The fact she used this hand for writing, but the left one for shooting a gun. And so many other things. Although what was even stranger was the fact that I noticed. I’ve been noticing all those things. About her. Her. When she showed a zero interest in being more acquainted with me.

When it was my turn to pick the best photo, it was no brainer. “The first one. The first one is the best.” I praised Max’s photo, but it didn’t cause any reaction on her side. Professor Palmer considered our work equal and said we both gained 20 percent of our grade. Somehow, I couldn’t make myself care. All I wanted was for her to look at me. Again, she didn’t. And then there was a knock on the door and a guy who brought an exquisite bouquet of tulips. For me, as it made known. I wanted to disappear. And weirdly, I also wanted to know if it finally made Max Caulfield look my way. Or jealous. Although, I didn’t dare to look and be disappointed for the third time if she didn’t.

After the class was over Hayden, the S.W.A.T. guy was waiting for me outside. Of course, it was he who sent the flowers. I squeezed the bouquet in my hand tighter but ignored him and keep walking. He caught up without shame.

“I hate you.” I spat.

“It’s cool until you like the tulips.” His voice was soft, and I was a woman indeed. No woman was immune to the power of beautiful flowers.

“Damn, you!” I surrendered. “You have five minutes of my time. Make it worth.”

“Well, first of all, tell me. Do you like them?” I loved them. But that wasn’t a point. It never had been.

“What do you want Hayden? Your secret's safe with me.”

“I just want to know if you liked them.”

“They’re lovely.”

“And I also want you to come with me to my brother’s wedding. As a one-time event. As my girlfriend. There would be a lot of prominent people in there, bizarre food, expensive vi--”

“You’re out of your mind.” Was he entirely stupid? Or just endlessly cocky?

“A friend. As a friend. And you can keep the Christian Dior dress after.”

I stopped in my tracks. Was he offering to buy a dress from Christian Dior? “Do you know how much such dress cost?”

“Probably as much as a middle-class car?”

“So you’d pay for the dress if I’ll go with you and let me keep it?” I was in a daze. He got some nerves. 

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you think I’m a whore? Get lost!” My patience expired. Although his smug attitude was replaced by despair.

“I’ll put the dress on auction after the wedding and give the money to the charity you’ll choose. What about that? Everyone will win. My family will be pleased. Your favourite charity will have a grand donation. And I will not need to force myself to have sex with a woman to get her there?”

“You can pay some hooker, I’m sure she’ll appreciate the dress and will be actually glad there was no sex involved, eventually.”

“And blackmail me after? No, thank you.”

“Fuck. Fine. Alright. Give me your number. I’ll give you a call when my brain will be ready to discuss this madness.”

“Brilliant.” He wrote a number to the phone I fetched him and disappeared too quickly. Before I could change my mind. I didn’t stay alone for long. 

“So what’s your business with him?” Zachary materialised on my left.

“My business with him is none of your business, my dear.” I didn’t even know if there’s going to be any business but imagined Hayden wouldn’t desire for me to spit around he asked me to be his beard.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Zachary’s quick surrender surprised me. And also made me wonder. “No, stupid remarks? No accusation of poor taste that I chose him over you?”

“No.”

“Unexpected.”

“Well,” he grinned, “you said you’re lesbian. I believe you. And I also caught you checking professor Jiwe’s ass. And last but not least I know if you’d be into the D, you chose me over him.”

“Smug as, always.” I teased. 

“And perceptive. Because there’s only one business you can have with him. If I inquired, you could unintentionally out him and that, my dear, is actually something that is only his business if he’s not straight.”

“Interesting. I would never consider you an ally.”

“What would you consider me? Judgemental misogyny asshole?”

“No offence, Zach, but yes.”

“I was like that. Maybe I still am, to some extent.”

“Yet, you treat me with respect and have no problem with a man who could not be straight. Even consider the relationship between two gay men as less toxic from all the possible combinations.”

“I have a cousin. Nyssa.” He said, and it was clear he and this cousin Nyssa were close. “She’s the only normal member of my overachieving family. She’s gay. Or bisexual, I guess. She dated men, as well. But to the family’s disapproval, she also had this super awesome girlfriend at the time being. I think you might even know her, she works as a trainer in your gym. So I totally love her, I loved them together. They’re the reason I didn’t become a complete moron. And misogyny asshole, as you pointed.”

“Well, maybe I should give these flowers to Nyssa and her girlfriend as my eternal thanks.” 

“Maybe. But they’re not together anymore. Although, they’ve stayed on the good terms. Another impossible thing in my family. My mother and father can’t be in the same building at the same time. And they divorced over 10 years ago.”

“Ok, Zach. I declare, your probation officially ended and I promote you to my real friend.”

“Thanks, miss Chase. So, what do I have to do for the next level? Friends with benefits.”

“Oh, you d--”

“Chill, Vic. I was kidding.”


	8. The Answer is No

**Victoria Chase**

**Friday, October 11, Day 25, Year 1**

Forensic Chemistry, my optional class, was rescheduled from Tuesday to Friday afternoon. Because professor Feringa had been offered a grant to continue his nanotechnology research. Because of that, he had to move to the States. And they assigned us a new teacher who wasn’t available on Tuesdays. Warren was super upset as professor Feringa was his professional idol. I was upset too, because his departure meant this was the second class of Forensic Chemistry this week. At least I’ll have more time on Tuesdays afternoon and could hit the gym with my favourite personal trainer, Sara Lance. Another good thing was that Hayden neither had shown up at class with professor Jiwe in the morning nor now. I still didn’t make up my mind if I will be his fake girlfriend for the wedding. 

I happened to have a peculiar effect on people. Either positive or negative. Whether it was because of my looks, or my attitude, or a combination of more factors, it was reality. My presence caused indifference rarely. It was no hard task to affect other people’s behaviour. For fun. Or for my advantage. 9 from 10 cases it always worked. And when it hadn’t, I had tended to become mental. Hopefully, I got the downsides of this trait under control.

Although before, I had used this power to deal with those who hadn’t fit with my goals and needs. With my twisted world. Alas, it had never brought any good or real satisfaction. The whole thing had been based on so much confusion. When mother had realised the approach, she had chosen with her first child (my brother) had failed, she pointed my upbringing to a different direction. Opposite to what she had used to do with Jamie. Instead of holding my hand the whole time, she had desired to strengthen my self-sufficiency, will and my ability to make my own decisions, too soon, too vigorously. It had backfired horribly.

I had misjudged mother's expectations of me. And when she had finally realised a young girl can be easily misguided when pushed, it had been too late. She had always required me to do my best. To be in control. Which I had originally translated as be better than anyone else. And if you can’t, make them look worse. When that girl, Kate Marsh, cut her wrists it had opened my eyes. I had sought mother immediately and told her everything. Absolutely everything, including what role my gayness played in the whole thing. And I’d been ready to accept any punishment. If she had been mad, she had not shown it. Neither in that moment nor ever. Many double sessions with shrink had helped us understand each other. Mother had taken the blame and started to see me as who I had been and treat me alike. A teenage girl who could be easily confused, not an omniscient mini adult. Six years had passed. Some things didn’t change. I refused to accept that mother’s hardship and expectations she had put on me had caused Kate Marsh had decided to die. It had been my reckless, rude actions. Only mine. Some things did change, though. I had learnt how to use my assets to help people, not hurt them. Or I wanted to believe that. And because of this, I was seriously considering helping Hayden with the wedding thing. Also, I was excited about tonight. 

Taylor had finally agreed to my suggestion to come clean about her infatuation with Steph. And tell her about it. Partly. She had admitted there was some attraction on her side. Steph had reacted as I had expected. She confessed it’s definitely not one-sided. 

And they’re supposed to go on semi-date, tonight. Semi because Taylor wasn’t sure if she could act upon her feelings eventually, or if they’ll stay purely platonic. I strongly recommended to not hide this from Steph and fortunately she agreed. Yesterday, they had had this genuine conversation about possible mutual attraction. And today it should show if it could come to life. If Taylor is ready to take such a big step. That’s why I’d advised their meeting should take place in public. So, she could recognise if it makes her uncomfortable or not. This had been the most problematic arrangement, but she accepted it eventually. But not unconditionally. Taylor demanded I’ll be present and watch them from afar. Especially her. And use my detective skills to evaluate if her body language says I love to hang out with you as a friend. Or I loved to get into your pants. This task was easy to follow. But she desired me to fulfil another one, too. And even when I understood why she was adamant about that, it didn’t make me eager to complete it.

“Are you there, queen Elsa of Arendelle?” Warren waved in front of my face.

“Just don’t call me that, nerd boy. Okay?” It was actually the coolest nickname someone ever gave to me, but I didn’t want him to like me.

“Sorry. So how should I call you, then?” He and his puppy eyes.

“Well, preferably don’t speak to me at all, if unnecessary.” I had used him at the very beginning to get rid of Hayden, and I was still using him because of his chemistry skills. He didn't supposed to like me. 

“But we are lab partners, we have to--”

“The way I see it, the class is over.” I cut him short and gathered all my belongings.

“Sorry.” He muttered defeated. I totally killed his hype and suddenly felt bad about it.

“Listen Warren, do you have plans tonight?” I blurted. Because of my past, I had a lot to redeem for. That was a fact. Maybe helping Warren Graham to be less awkward was also one of the milestones on this eternal road. And I won’t feel bad anymore about him considering me a likable person. 

“Scrolls of War.” 

“Sweet mother of God.” Damn, he could be soooo impossible. “Does it mean you can’t grab a drink with me?”

“On the date? Are you asking me on the date?” Warren asked, half excited, half frightened.

I wanted to slap him. How could someone be so… untouched by reality? But it wouldn’t help anything. “No Warren, I am not asking you on the date. What in the world makes you think that’s the case?” I admonished.

“I-I don’t know. Sorry.”

I swore if I rolled my eyes more, I’d see the back of my skull. “Oh, for fuck’ sake do not apologise for everything. Rather use your brain before you speak. You apparently have one.” 

“Right, s---. Right.”

“So, wanna go out or not?”

“I do, but if it’s not a date, what is it then?” His eyes were nervously flickering between the floor and my face.

I patted his temple. “Remember about how you should use your brain. Now it’s a great opportunity. Try it.”

He frowned, and for a moment it looked like a stroke was about to hit him.

“The two lab partners having a drink together?” I pouted. Which scared him a bit. But I release him with a smile, eventually.

“See it works flawlessly, that little brain of yours. If you use it more often maybe we can find you a girl tonight, too.”

“Oh, really?” 

If anyone could be as easily excited as him, the world could be a much funnier place, I thought. “If you behave.” And smiled. “Meet me at Vortex pub at seven. And don’t you dare to wear a tee with design. Or god forbid, one tee over another tee. Actually, no t-shirts at all. Take some nice shirt. No flannel, no crazy colours. Black or dark shade of blue. Denim or indigo. You must have at least one.”

“What? What if--”

“Then go buy it! See you at seven.”

I waved to him and dashed to the door. There was a lot to do. When outside of the Academy I took a tram. On my way to our shared apartment, Taylor already texted me three times. She had ants in her pants. And I was close to bursting into laughter or crying out loud. 

* * *

The Vortex Pub was crowded. No surprise, it was Friday night after all. There were few free spots at the big U-shaped bar, but all the tables and boxes were already occupied.

Warren listened to my advice and left all t-shirts at home. It wasn’t perfect, but he looked good. I had booked us a table with a perfect view of the bar where my objective had settled a moment ago.

Steph Gingrich, the girl who made Taylor question her sexuality, sat at the barstool watching one of the TV screens. The game between Ajax and Feyenoord was broadcasted. My brother Jamie was on the pitch, too. Maybe I could use it to my advantage, I thought. 

“So…” Warren started timidly.

“Don’t speak if you haven’t used your brain and figured out, yet if that what you want to say isn't complete nonsense.”

“Okay.” He resigned.

I turned my attention back to the bar. So this Steph girl, I watched her closely. I wouldn’t see her on the cover of the magazine. You wouldn’t think, oh my god, she’s so hot as the first thing when you look at her. But in the end, it didn’t make her any less attractive. The way she talked with a bartender, confident, outgoing, amicable. The way she smiled when replying to the text message. From Taylor, presumably. And the way she let her joy or annoyance explode when something interesting happened in the game. It all made her more charming than any plain hottie I’ve ever met. She was genuine by all means. I didn’t spot tons of make-up or push-up bra or any fashion tricks that could make anyone look attractive. She wore simple blue jeans and forest green blazer and grey shirt. The outfit bore a pinch of masculinity, but only the slightest one. The blazer and shirt were totally balanced with lower body styling. The ⅞ skinny jeans highlighted all those little things every woman desired others would admire in her. Nicely shaped ass, not overly bulged, like some current fashion trends demanded, (Completely imbecile and repulsive IMO) but not flat either. Long legs, neither too muscular nor ugly anorectic. Just perfectly lean. And those sexy ankles of hers. She knew why she exposed them. They asked to be massaged and kissed. Even if she chose sneakers instead of classy black pumps. But she had picked a more fashionable option, and that said something about her. The heel was exactly the right high and width to make it bearable to wear without losing the naughty element. And the cherry on the top, fine silver earrings and subtle pendant. A dragon, perhaps? I couldn’t see, it was too far away. I could go on and on and on and find more and more pieces of the puzzle that made the whole picture irresistible. But what I like the most so far was the way she presented herself. She didn’t come here to upstage someone. To show up. She did this only for Taylor. Or so I believed. I wanted to call off our little game because I was almost sure she’s going to have eyes only for my best friend and seeing them together will seal the deal. I texted Taylor, but she was persistent and asked me to stick to the plan. 

“Did you know,” Warren made his presence known again, “that the fifth generation of silicone-gel breast implant is made of a high-strength, highly cohesive silicone gel that mostly eliminates the occurrences of filler leakage and of the migration of the silicone filler from the implant pocket to elsewhere in the woman's body. It’s because of the mixed inorganic-organic polymers--”

“Nice try but no. Do not talk about silicone implants when you want to impress a girl. Unless it’s some Instagram attention whore. I would be surprised if such a kind was your type.”

“Ugh…” He grunted painfully. “Okay but I’m out of my debts. What I should---”

I grabbed his arm and made him stand up. “Come!” There were two girls in my sight standing at the bar. One of them could be a match for him, if only he could, “just be yourself. But not too much.” He stared in awe but didn’t resist and let me pull him towards the bar.

“Hi.” I greeted the girls as if they were my best friends forever. “So, do you know Warren?” I smiled even wider and let him swim in the dark waters. To my surprise, he started the conversation vividly without embarrassing himself and girls seemed jolly to have him around. I could move to my task.

Steph the foxy beauty just noticed a new short message delivered to her phone. I knew it was from Taylor. We had hatched this plan. Taylor apologised that she had to head back home because she forgot her wallet. It was a blatant lie and part of our plan. Steph's reaction should tell us something about her sincerity and intentions with Taylor. Her face became genuinely sad. Before she could reply another message from Taylor was delivered. She suggested they still could meet, but she’ll be at least an hour late. Steph smiled widely and from the speed she reacted to this message, I supposed she agreed to that. She agreed to wait an hour for Taylor and was super looking forward to that. I so did not want to continue this game. But I had promised. My task wasn’t only to watch them interact, but I should figure out if Steph’s attraction is deeper than simple infatuation. Taylor agreed to do this date thing only if I’ll try to hook-up with Steph first. _If she won’t fall for your charm, she’s genuinely interested in me. If she will, there’s no point in continuing this madness. I’m not some whim or distraction. Or one of the many._ Taylor said, and I had a last chance to back off. I didn’t.

I slowly approached Steph sitting at the bar. “Jamie Alistair is decent this season. But still, I think he should spend more time actually lifting the bars than taking pictures of how he’s doing so.”

“He definitely should. Ajax depends on him. But I guess that wretched spoiled ex-wife of his did a lot of damage and some is beyond repair.”

That was easy. She took a bait. Oh, she did. But honestly, I got lucky. She could easily support Feyenoord. 

“I’m Victoria, the proud Ajax fan.” I offered a handshake. 

“Steph.” She accepted it but got away with it very briefly and turned back to the tv screen. The gears were grinding in her head. I almost could hear it. Should she continue this innocent conversation or drop it? I had a handful of flirting attempts in my pocket if needed to regain her attention, but she spoke first. “I used to love Jamie Alistair when I was a teenager. But then that gold digger bitch happened and I--” She sighed.

I let her focus on her thoughts. Girls loved to be listened to. Usually they didn’t seek advice, often they did not understand what they wanted to say, they just knew they had to let it out, and they always appreciated to not be interrupted. 

“I know it’s pathetic. He was like a hero to me, hardworking, passionate, but never malicious. Yeah, he came out as a bit of naïve, but everything about him screamed commitment and sincerity. His heart and soul belonged to Ajax and even when he transferred to Juventus he never forgot from where he’d come. And then that fake plastic gold digger happened. And he let her talk shits about his club, about his family. It pissed many people.”

I knew the story more than well. I had been there with my own in the background. My big brother had made a lot of mistakes, but none of his had resulted in someone cutting their wrists. But there was neither time nor place to think about that. So now when she was willing to talk to me, I subtly turned the conversation to another topic. It was no challenge. Thanks to Taylor, I knew everything about her. Our conversation went smoothly. But she dismissed all my attempts to flirt or to touch her at once. 

She figured out quickly what I was doing. “Look, Victoria.”

“I’m looking. Straight into your beautiful eyes.”

And refused to take part. “You seemed like a nice girl, but no. The answer is no. No matter what you seek for, the answer is no. I’m not on the market. I’m not interested. I’m waiting for someone. A girl. The girl I deeply care about.”

I tried one more time, even when I was pretty sure this battle was lost. Or won more precisely. She was head over heels about Taylor. “I’m not asking for commitment. We could--”

“No, we couldn’t.” Steph snapped.

“I see. This girl must be very lucky. And believe it or not, I’m more than grateful for your choice.”

“You-- You are?” She was visibly relieved I wasn’t about to push anymore.

“Have a nice evening, Steph.” With no more explanation, I sauntered away from her and sent a text to Taylor.

_She’s all yours._

Not long after I hit the send button, I spotted her in the doorway. From a considerable distance, I watched how she approached Steph and jumped into her arms. 30 seconds of their interactions was enough for me to see there was a spark in there. The spark that had a potential to light up the polar night. Therefore, there was no reason for me to linger. I briefly caught up with Warren and his two admirers and said goodbye. And also subtly asked him to monitor the situation around Steph and Taylor from time to time. And don’t allow any distraction in their proximity. Boy distraction. Or girl.

Before I could carry out with my plan to leave, I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder.

“Fancy a drink, barbie girl?” A raspy male voice accompanied the soft touch.

“Fancy a fist in your fucking f--”

“Hey, relax.” Drew raised his hands in surrender and grinned. “I thought it was Kristine's virtue. The desire to beat the shit out of me.”

I must smile, too. “It is. And she would also not hesitate to beat the shit out of me, if she’ll see me talking with you. So, you understand I have to pass.”

“Don’t worry, she left 10 minutes ago. Because ,I“ he did the air quotes “ogled a bartender. I totally didn’t. She just wanted to fight. And force me to apologise. I saw right through her and then really ogled a bartender to piss her. So she left.”

“Are you two dating or what?”

“No. I hate her. And she hates me.” He shrugged.

“So, what are you doing then? Together on Friday night. In Vortex.”

“It’s complicated.”

“What isn’t?”

“Touché. What about the drink? And we could talk about it. Or how sad you look because that sexy girl at the bar just turned you down and is now having a great time with another blond chick.” I glanced towards Steph and Taylor. They were definitely enjoying themselves. 

“She… she didn’t turn me down, it was---”

“So why do you look so despondent?” Did I really give the impression I was drowning in a lake of sorrow?

“I-I… I am not.” I probably did. But not because Steph in particular turned me down. Maybe I just wanted to be in Taylor's shoes where a beautiful girl was all fired up to spend time with me. The girl who wasn’t married or in the closet or having any other crazy issue. The girl who was interested in being with me, not only in fucking me. The girl like Max Caulfield, passionate, clever and having a weird, yet appealing sense of humour.

_Oh Victoria, just stop this freaking Max Caulfield nonsense, will you? She’s evidently not interested._

Unlike the others, she would turn me down even before I could fall for her and let my heart be broken, again. Maybe it was Kate Marsh's curse. I’d put a video online where she was all slutty and enjoying it. I was so making fun of her appetite. And that had led her to cutting her wrists. In return, I was forever banished from finding true love. A girl who was serious about me. Instead, I was just seen as an object of lust.

“Come, I don’t wanna go wasted alone tonight, and then sleep with some random girl. And you seem like a great drinking buddy and will definitely prevent the hooking up thing. Because they’ll fall for you first.” Drew linked our arms and before I knew we were sitting at a bar with two double Johnnie Walker’s in front of us.

“I don’t sleep around, you know.” I took a shot of the double scotch and shivered. 

“Don’t tell me you’re seeking some fairytale everlasting love.” He did the same. Although without shivering.

“I probably would, if it was achievable. My parents have it, and it’s fucking amazing. But the universe decided I’m not the right candidate. So no, I don’t seek for fairytale everlasting love, anymore. But another scotch... that something worthy to seek for, isn’t it?”

“Just my words!” He gushed and ordered two more shots.

I refused to talk about my love life, so it was mostly him who did the talking. About how his parents had left Suriname 25 years ago in hope to find a better life here. And at first it all had gone smoothly. Then in times of economic crisis Sean Prescott had refused to cut his profit and instead he’d cut unessential employees. Mostly workers. Both of Drew’s parents had lost their jobs. And according to his words, it had been pretty fucked up for quite a time. And eventually, they’d divorced. He had been a teenager and hated that he couldn’t have new trainers or a cellphone. He had been mad with his parents at the time, although now he knew Sean Prescott had been responsible. Things could go ugly with Drew. At age twelve he joined the gang of underage burglars and could end as a pathetic recidivist who spent half of his life in jail, perhaps. But the police officer who had caught him the first time had shown compassion. He’d convinced Drew he could have a different life. As a part time track and field trainer, he had brought him to running and then to triathlon. When Drew had qualified for the Olympics in Rio, he had been the happiest person in the world. And a year later when a drunk driver hit him when on a bike, he was the saddest. Because the complicated multiple leg fracture prevents him from doing competitive sport. According to his words it had been a lot of toils, tears, sweat and self-doubting. But every defeat he had gone through had strengthened him and now he was here at Academy paying the tribute to the police officer who had saved his life.

And even if he knew that Kristine was nothing like her father, Sean Prescott, and she wasn’t responsible for any of those fucked-up things that had happened to him... Even when the attraction between Drew and her was insane, it couldn’t go any further. He couldn’t unsee the fact that she was born in wealth and luxury and had everything she desired. The only thing she needed to deal with was an asshole father. He hated her for that, and she hated him for hating her. Most of the times. And when they weren’t hating each other, they were fucking occasionally. 

I had no clue how many shots I had, but it was just the right amount to get me hammered enough to not mind hugging him.

“Don worr-ee. You be an odd-standing cop. And with Kris-tine. You figure it out.” I slurred after having too many Johnnie Walkers. “Or we-- we find you another sexy bitch, just a bit poor-ehr.” 

He laughed, and we almost fell down from the barstools. Thanks to the newcomer who backed us up, we didn’t.

“Vicky, something happened. Something went wrong.” It was Warren. 

“Hey, hey. You. Drew, do you know Warren? He’s fucking great.. ...just had some talking issues.” I said having a talking issues myself. “So wh-ad, dear. Did ya talk about silicone breast implants, didn’t ya?” I chuckled. 

“What? No! But I was watching over the lezzie date from time to time as you asked me.” Right. The date. The young love. I almost forgot. He didn’t. “And when the brunette was in the bathroom some too much wax guy stopped and talked with the blond one. I considered an intervention but, you know… he had too much muscle mass. He’d kill me. Oh, he would. Or so I thought. When brunette came back, she shoved him off, but the dynamics between them changed. And after a short dispute, the blond one left. She left the bar, and she left the brunette totally upset.”

I can’t say I sobered up, but I didn’t feel that wasted anymore. I looked around, watching for any sign of Steph or Taylor, but they were both gone. So I dashed out of Vortex, followed by Warren and Drew, but none of them were in sight. 

_Where are you?_

I texted Taylor, and she simply replied _Home._

When I finally managed to get there, she didn’t give any explanation of what happened. Except that she’s straight and can’t understand how Steph could be immune to nasty remarks of some imbecile guys according to her gayness.


	9. Victoria's Secret Part II

**Victoria Chase**

**Monday, October 14, Day 28, Year 1**

I sat in the tram and couldn't stop thinking about Max Caulfield. The book I intended to read laid on my lap unnoticed. But how could I read after what I had just experienced? Her performance today in professor’s Heywood class had been outstanding. I had misjudged her. A month ago I had thought she was one of those fragile porcelain dolls. Weaklings that are unable to stand up for themselves and in the risk to get shattered after a simple touch. I had seen her as someone who has desires but is ashamed to fulfil them. I had been mad with her for overestimating her skills and coming right into the storm. I had hated professor Heywood and his mind games and accepting her for study. And I had prayed she’ll find someone who’ll protect her.

I had been wrong. And it made me thrilled. Beyond happy. I’ve never been happier about being wrong. After that disaster with Taylor and Steph, it was a nice change. To see the rise of Max Caulfield. Today she had not suppressed any desires and had brought a perfect crime scene scenario to life. She put all of her skills in use, and thanks to her effort, we had beaten boys in the task professor Heywood had given us. Today she showed leadership, she showed cool head, determination and most importantly, a thorough eye. In this case, unfortunately, I had one too. So not only her performance caught my attention. But I also noticed her cute little freckles, her deep blue eyes and dainty lips again. And I couldn’t deny anymore also this was part of the thrill I felt. I put the book severely suffering a lack of proper care back to my purse and got out of the tram. The pleasant thoughts were replaced with more oppressing ones. The day I had moved in with Taylor a couple of weeks ago was like a childhood dream coming true. Living with my BFF. When she had dumped Steph the other day, it had slowly started becoming a nightmare. Taylor refused to explain herself, but I saw her suffering. When I unlocked the door, this pain got a new meaning. But this time it was me who suffered.

“Hello.” A shredded man getting out of our bathroom greeted me. He was almost naked, only the towel lazily wrapped around his hips dampened a sheer disgust that raised in me. 

“You have three seconds to explain yourself or…” He glimpsed the grip of my gun I revealed in my purse not so subtly. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He cowered and hit the bathroom door. Oh, I enjoyed this faking and aimed the gun on him.

“I-I---- please don’t.”

Taylor ran out of her room just to witness this oddity. 

“Victoria, Victoria stop!” She jumped in front of him. “This is Taylor. I've met him in the café.” I had hard times to choose what was more bizarre. Half naked man in front of me. His name. Taylor. Or that Taylor, _my Taylor_ was so fucked up she brought this random guy here. The guy who's name was freaking Taylor.

I lowered the gun. She sent daggers my way. “Come.” She took his hand, dragged him to her room and slammed the doors.

“It must be body snatchers around,” I roared. There was no other explanation for what happened to my best friend. I went to my room thinking about a long shover that would definitely make me feel better. “Urgh.” But then I remember that testosterone trash left our bathroom only a couple of moments ago. I was so pissed with Taylor and with myself because I couldn’t put the finger on what in that hell had happened. One moment she had been so happy around Steph, so fired up and the other she had run away. I decided that I needed a shower despite that lowlife fuckboy of hers invaded our bathroom. However, I cleaned and disinfected everything first. The vigour I used helped to ease the anger a bit. The steamy shower was a great way to relax my stiff neck muscles. Back in my room, I slipped into yoga pants, but instead of a cosy oversize t-shirt, I chose a sports bra.

My thoughts were flying around my head like an evil swarm of locusts.

Max Caulfield and the way she had erased boys' effort.

Max Caulfield and her sexy freckles.

Taylor head over heels about Steph.

Naked bimbo in our flat.

I needed to calm down. I decided maybe yoga will do. But changed my mind at once. A bit of boxing sounded better suddenly. I packed my gym bag and didn’t bother to inform Taylor about my plans. A moment before I could get out of our apartment, I heard a soft knock on the door. When I opened, I so wished it was our old lady gossipy neighbour complaining about Taylor and Taylor’s loud sex. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

“You? What are you doing here.” The visitor lashed out. “Where is Taylor? What kind of sick game is this?”

Oh, I yearned to give Steph Gingrich an answer that wouldn’t hurt her. I did. Although, that I didn’t have.

“I want to speak to Taylor!” She snapped. Oh shit, what now, I wondered. 

“She’s not here.” I recounted, “but I’ll take you to her,” in the hope this desperate plan will cease my current helplessness. I grabbed the sports bag and headed exactly the opposite way I promised to Steph. Away from Taylor. She followed, lost in her thoughts. For now.

When in the tram she came to life. “So what’s this about. You’re fucking her? You’re dating her? You like to toy with people?”

I had nothing else to offer than truth. And frankly, she deserved to know. 

“I sought you on purpose at Vortex but not for what you think.” She was angry, grim, tormented. And I’m going to work my ass off to make her believe a single word coming from my mouth. That was for sure. But she was willing to listen. Or maybe there was nothing else left for her. Her resigned sigh gave me permission to continue. 

So I gave her a brief version of my long term friendship with Taylor and of her recent struggles and affection towards Steph. It took just enough time to get us where I wanted. We found ourselves in front of my gym.

“And she also desired to know if your interest in her is genuine. If you’re not playing with her. You must understand, it would be the first time for her with a girl. She was cautious.” I concluded.

“Well, from where I stand, it wasn’t her who was played, was she?” I could only shrug. Steph was right. So is Taylor in there?” She looked at the gym entrance. I nodded, and she followed me inside. I settled things with the receptionist and convinced her to change to my sports clothes (because it’s required I said). I was okay in my yoga pants. Somehow Steph agreed to everything I ordered. Probably because she still believed it would lead her to Taylor. When we were in the boxing area, she discerned my deception, and I had to come clean.

“Everything I’ve told you is true except one thing. Taylor is not here.”

“You, bitch!” She wanted to scream perhaps but only muttered defeated. “I trusted you.” And turn around on her heel. 

“Wait! Wait, please.” I fetched her the boxing gloves. “Taylor’s not coming back. There’s nothing you can do right now, to change her mind. She won’t budge. I’m not sure why but I’m sure she won’t. Maybe she's… some people are just straight. And I bet you are not feeling the capacity to accept this suffering without getting upset right now. But soon, you will. Until you embrace patience, release the anger. Come on, hit me!”

“Damn!” She bellowed and put the gloves on. “Damn it!” And hit the boxing pat I grabbed. And again. And again. Although, it was nothing more than throwing pebbles to the stone wall. 

“Harder!” I cried. “Come on, Steph, let it all out. Go Harder.”

She tried but failed. Steph was debilitated and only lasted one minute before she fell down to her knees sobbing. I threw away the boxing pad and followed—the kneeling, not the sobbing. Two guys sparring close to us looked at me cautiously. I wasn't unknown to them. We were that kind of hi, hi gym pals. I gestured that everything’s under control, and they left us alone.

So I put my arms around Steph and she sunk in. She was totally worn. After a while, she had no strength left even for sobbing. “Where’s the last time you eat. Or sleep?” I required. She didn’t reply. I was so ready to be worried when she finally spoke.

“Why does it matter? I’m done anyway.”

“You’re not done, Jesus.” I declared being careful it didn’t sound harsh but gentle and ran my arms up and down her back reassuringly. “A girl dumped you. So what? it’s not the end of the world.” I felt her head shaking.

“So what? That’s what you got. You’ve never been in love, haven’t you?”

“I probably haven’t. There were moments in my life when I thought I was, but now I don’t believe it was real. Actually, I’m glad it wasn’t. True love is not real, anyway. It belongs to the movies and cheesy fanfiction.” I admitted. 

“Does it?” She looked up, right into my eyes. “Says the girl who never loved. Spare your advice until you have at least a touch of the most amazing thing in the world, will you?”

She was still down, but there was a hint of acceptance in her voice and in her eyes. And in her actions, also. She pushed me away softly and stood up. Our eyes were still locked. I thought she was the saddest person I’ve ever met. If possible, I’d trade my kidney for a chance to give her a reassurance Taylor will come to her senses, and they’ll live happily ever after. But any promise I gave would be a lie at the moment. To my surprise, Steph offered me her hand. I gladly accepted.

“Thank you, Victoria. You didn’t have to be supportive, yet you were.” She released my hand. I released the breath.

“I wish I could do more.”

She didn’t say anything just shrugged and turned away.

“Let me buy you dinner.” I blurted. I couldn’t help myself. 

“I don’t need your pity.” She turned back.

“I do not pity you, Steph.” I just wanted to make her feel better. Maybe it was guilt, that guilt that had followed me for six years. “I wasn’t honest with you before, and I want to make up for it. Also, I’m starving. Will you keep me company for a bit more?”

She glared at me. I couldn’t tell if she’s considering my offer or just thinking about how to say to me to fuck off nicely. “Fine. Alright.” She spoke eventually. “But only because my stomach is gurgling.”

The place I chose was my favourite Italian restaurant—Veneto di Paolo. I had always stopped by when visiting Jamie or in the last two years, also Taylor. And we were finally here. Steph hadn’t said a word on our way. Every time I had glanced her way, she looked paler. I had linked our arms, eventually. She hadn’t protested and even leant closer to me. We were just like that when we got in. The owner, Paolo, was a total football freak. And Jamie’s loyal fan. He had mentioned once, and not long after I had brought Jamie in. Paolo almost had a stroke. And since then, I always had a table reserved and special treatment granted.

“Signora Chase, Benvenuta!” The hostess greeted us. “A table for two. Private.” She added, not asked. And deliberately missed our little crime against dress code. I wore yoga pants and a baggy hoodie, Steph jeans, t-shirt and worn expression. At least I didn’t have a sports bag. I had left it in my locker in the gym.

“Grazie, mille.” I nodded and let us be led to our destination. 

Paolo’s restaurant wasn’t posh or luxurious. It was cosy and welcoming and lively, and you felt like you’d be in Italy. Still yoga pants weren't exactly an appropriate outfit. But I brought Steph here not to some fast food for a reason. The food was superb. And even when I couldn’t predict if it'll make her feel better, I didn’t doubt it’s one of the few things that could. 

“Le Signore, il tuo tavolo.” The hostess seated us. “Paolo will be here in no time. Molto felice to have you here, signora Chase. “ She chirped.

Our table was in a secluded part of the restaurant. It meant no tv screen with football games, only subtle music and broader distance between tables. There were also two dates present and one business meeting that should stay out of starry eyes. These facts were revealed to me after a quick evaluation. Usually, I prefered the front room, a bit rowdy but so full of life. But now this one was better, Steph didn’t need too many stimuli. Her mind should be calmed not to become more overloaded. As the hostess promised Paolo, the middle-aged bald man with a sturdy build, showed almost right after we had sat. I stood up and smiled.

“Ciao, bella!” He greeted me with two air kisses. Typically, he would squeeze me with joy until I couldn’t catch a breath. For this time, he was more subtle. One of the reasons he’s led the successful restaurant for years was that he knew exactly what his customers needed and wanted at any moment.

“Ciao, Paolo. Sei stupendo, come sempre!” I air-kissed him back. Normally, he’d say I look marvellous, too but he never lied, and marvellous was the last word that could describe me that day. 

“It’s always a pleasure to have you here. And also, your dear friends.”

“Paolo this is Steph. She studies industrial design and has an eye for beauty in simple things.” Taylor had shown me some of her designs.

Paolo took Steph's hand and kissed it as a true gentleman. “ Signora Steph, E’ un piacere conoscerla.”

“Ahem..” She stood up, too with intention to act politely but it seemed she had no idea what he said. 

_He said it’s nice to meet you._ I mouthed.

“Oh. A pleasure to meet you, too Mr Ahem…”

“Paolo. Call me, Paolo, my dear. Amica di Victoria or Jamie is a friend of mine as well.” He smiled and finally gave us the menus.

“Grazie. Oh, and we have Masi Costasera Amarone della Valpolicella.” I asked for a bottle of red wine.

“2012?”

“Sí. And also Pieropan la Rocca Soave Classico. Four glasses.” And also for white one.

“2017?”

“That would be perfect.”

He left, and I wondered if Steph didn’t feel uncomfortable with that much attention. I was used to Paolo’s hospitality. That’s why I hadn’t considered it as something unusual. But maybe right now it could come as too much care for her. If it was so, she didn’t show and buried her head into the menu. 

“How could you know I have an eye for beauty in simple things?” She demanded browsing the menu.

“I saw your designs,” I stated simply. It was necessary to cut this topic short because I didn’t see the way to avoid mentioning Taylor. “Have something caught your attention on the menu?”

“Pizza, perhaps? My brain is too tired to choose. I might not even be that hungry.” She moaned.

Our conversation was interrupted by two incoming bartenders. I nodded to let them know, it’s gonna be me who’ll do the tasting. The first one opened the bottle of white wine and poured a small amount of liquid to the glass he fetched me. I raised the glass and held it close to my nose. The scent touched my nostrils but didn’t invade. A pinch of spice, a pinch of fruit. Someone would consider it flat. Not me. And I chose it for the reason because even when Taylor had revealed a lot about Steph, her choice of wine wasn’t one of these informations. I took a sip, and it tasted exactly as it smelt. 

“Grazie, prendiamo” I informed the bartender, we’ll take it.

The other one repeated the process with a bottle of red. The flavour was richer, and the smell more intense. I’d say Steph will like this one more. But in the big picture, I saw her more like a beer and tequila girl. 

“Allora, cosa vuole ordinare, signora Chase?” He asked when I confirmed we’ll keep the second bottle, as well. Steph was observing the whole situation emotionlessly. It was without a doubt that If we waited until she was ready to order, she could probably starve to death. It was on me, then. One of the symptoms of lovesickness was insipidness. Any food lacked a flavour and had no taste. I had faith I could uncover at least one dish, that will breach Steph’s numbness. Therefore I decided to order 6 starters and asked for smaller portions. Also Instead of ordinary Entrée, I chose 6 mini pizzas each with a different topping. My requests probably wouldn’t be accepted readily if raised by a regular customer. Fortunately, thanks to my footballer brother Jamie I wasn’t ordinary. And as much as I’d never intended to use it to my advantage, according to the circumstances, I didn’t mind.

“So I presume you’ve already ordered for both of us,” Steph said, watching me and I catch a spark of something in her eyes.

“Yeah.”

“You realise there will be only two of us, don’t you? It seemed like you ordered half of the menu.”

“I did.” I smiled. So her mind was here for the last couple of moments, not in the pity land. That was a success.

“And two bottles of wine?” She didn’t seem amused.

“I couldn’t know which one you prefer.” I recounted.

“You could ask.” She countered.

“Would you tell me?”

“Probably not. I’m pretty sure I have no clue which one I prefer.”

“See, today is as good a day as any to figure it out.” I enthused her. Steph was far away from being cheerful, but I hoped my attempt to lead her thoughts elsewhere was at least partially successful. She chewed her lips and opened her mouth but clammed up, eventually. Although she didn’t stop staring at me.

“If you won’t like what I ordered, I’ll arrange that Jamie Alistair congratulates you for your birthday on his Instagram. What about that?” She didn’t react immediately, but I could see she was thinking about my offer. 

“Are you his girlfriend or what? The Paolo guy mentioned Jamie, you were all fired up about Jamie the first time we met. So, are you?”

“Steph, really? So far, you seemed clever.” I challenged her.

“I am clever!” To my joy, I managed to drag her into the dispute. The spark in her eyes lit stronger, and she sounded more alive.

“Well, look at me! And think about him! Is your brain telling you we are some showmance hot couple?”

“Frankly, no. You are hardly a WAG type. Old men’s lover perhaps, but not a WAG.” It irritated me that she considered me an Old man’s lover type, but today wasn’t about me. So I grinned and bore it. And let Steph continue. “You’re posh. But not I wanna be posh. Natural posh.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“No.” She laughed dryly.

“Shame.” I faked disappointment, and it didn’t go unnoticed by her. Her mood was improving, and the food didn’t even arrive. 

“And now when I’m thinking about it, you’re not his type either. That Instagram attention whore ex-wife of his couldn’t gibber a single coherent sentence in literary language. Not to mention that thick accent makes her sound even more ill-mannered. Your grammar’s perfect, so is pronunciation. And you speak fluent Italian, also. Maybe other languages, who knows. My suggestion was wrong. You’re not his girlfriend. Not in the world.”

“Who am I, then?”

“The tutor, the general manager, hired for him?” Now, she was laughing wholeheartedly, and it was such a pleasure to watch, I overlooked her low opinion about my older brother’s mental capacity. 

“Come on, Steph, look at me. Look at me!” I pointed to my face.

“Yeah, you’re pretty. I give you that.” She blurted. Well, I couldn’t argue. Thanks to my mother’s exquisite beauty, I was gifted with features that many considered attractive. And so was Jamie. The change in Steph’s expression revealed she finally connected the dots. “Oh, my. You’re the sister. The little sister.” She covered her mouth with both hands. Her embarrassment was adorable. 

I only could smile because the waiter showed up with our appetisers.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend your brother.” She apologised when he left. 

“Easy, Steph. Jamie is not the brightest tool in the shed, as most of the footballers. Everyone knows that. Including him. But he’s not a bad person, and now he sees how much he screwed up with that WAG bitch. Dad’s still not talking to him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Damn, I shouldn’t mention dad’s No Talking policy. We had to go back on a happy train.

“You know what, let’s see if Jamie will have to post that happy birthday message for you. Let’s eat shall we?”

She nodded, and to my excitement, the good spirit was restored quickly. I ordered burrata with tomatoes and pesto, deep-fried calamari, eggplant parmesan bites, slow-cooked artichokes, carpaccio of beef filet with mustard dressing and last but not least Salmon tartare, with crab, avocado, caviar and quail eggs. She could be vegetarian, or pescatarian so I kept the options opened. Fortunately, she wasn’t any of it. She took a bite of everything and relished it. Well, except for caviar. She almost choked on it. I handed her the napkin chuckling and nodded in reassurance she will not be punished if she’ll spit it. She did.

“Thanks!” Steph said after she neutralised the caviar flavour in her mouth with a mouthful of red wine. Yeah, she chose red as I predicted. “But you should warn me.”

“Where would be fun in that?” I teased.

“So you’re a funny person?” She teased back. “Also posh, caviar enjoying, powerful and rich sophisticated man lover type.”

“I am posh, sometimes. I admit. My mother is a high born classy woman, and I couldn’t completely avoid it. Albeit, I do not enjoy caviar, I’d choose burrata as an appetiser if this was a regular dinner. And I rather die than to be someone’s illicit lover, again. Definitely not a man's.” I gave her a mischievous grin and took a sip of my own wine. Red, also.

“So, you’re what? Some kind of nobility? No need for being a powerful, sophisticated person lover. Because you’re going to marry one?” Now, the teasing was gone. She was genuinely interested in my life. Without being judgemental. Which was refreshing. And she also didn’t mention man anymore but a person. Before I spoke, the waiter took away empty plates and one with an excess of caviar. 

“I’ve confessed my mother was born upper class and shortage and poverty have always been far away from my world. Though, I don’t feel like upper anything. Besides she’s married to a regular man. No one posh. Dad is a real gentleman and has manners, but no one would address him as posh. If you saw him in our garden, kneeling in the mud, you'd think he is the gardener. Those are the moments when mother adore him the most. That reminds her how he showed her the beauty of the world she had never known existed.”

I think I blushed talking about this perfect love I’ll probably never experience. I had denied myself that chance the moment I had bullied Kate Marsh for the first time.

Steph didn’t say anything, but there was some serious thinking going on in her head. I didn’t plan to interrupt. Then she took out her phone and googled something. “Yeah, I remembered correctly,” she muttered and sighed. “No one could avoid the shitstorm the tabloids released back then.” 

By shitstorm, she probably meant Jamie's _ex-wife_ situation. The topic we’d already touched slightly. My brother had become a football star at a very young age. When he had shown a passion for the sports mother supported him unconditionally and had taken care of everything. As a result, he had only one concern to focus on playing.

Fame and money attract many things. Most of them nasty. But as I said, our family had never suffered any shortage, so neither of those corrupted him. Although, in many ways, he had been naive and unaware of the cruelty of the real world. Because of our mother’s smother-love, he had always lived in the bubble where his only task had been to do what he loved. Play football. And even when she had slowly started to realise her approach had had fatal flaws and changed tactics radically with her other child (me), it had been too late for both of us.

To mother’s disapproval after six months of acquaintance, Jamie had married this girl. Twelve years older model and influencer. By her words. In reality: Gold digger and attention whore who had become famous only because of some pathetic reality show. She had convinced Jamie, no one understands him and loves him, only her. Well, she'd love something truly with her whole existence. Not him though. Just prominence, attention and most importantly, his money.

This marriage had caused a big rift in our family. Because _The wife_ had one master ability, I had to give her credit. She knew how to manipulate men. At age 22, Jamie had cut all ties with our family. I had been 14. A year later, he had gotten seriously injured, and his whole career had been at risk. Also fame, astronomical income and covers of magazines. _The wife_ had smelt trouble and asked for a divorce. And had been ready and eager to spill any made-up nasty detail about Jamie and his wicked family to every tabloid, just to secure her place in the spotlight when she still could. None of it had been true. At least the divorce judge had been a smart woman. And _The ex-wife_ had been left with nothing but her Instagram account. Not a single Euro. Jamie had recovered from injury eventually and became an even better footballer. And a person. Mother had taken him back, and he had been working hard on his atonement. The wound had been healed, although the scares remained.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that.” Steph’s words brought me back to reality. “But still, Willem Vincent Chase, former state secretary for digital, culture, media and sport.” She read. “It doesn’t sound like an everyman person.” Again the tone of her voice wasn’t judgemental but curious. 

I gave her a warm smile. It was of utmost importance, this conversation won’t get gloomy. “I didn’t say dad’s everyman person. He’s actually one of a kind. But his background is working class, not upper. His mum was a seamstress. She raised him all by herself. Not in the wealth and luxury as I was raised as you can imagine.”

Steph sucked air and held it. And I could tell she yearned for more of my life. Before she could ask the waitress brought six mini pizzas. To be precise, not a mini mini. Every single one has approximately 7 centimetres diameter and was cut to four pieces. And every part was equal to three bites max. 

“This must be a mistake.” Steph declared gaping at the waiter. 

“‘Tis not.” I chortled.

“Six pizzas? Who’s gonna eat it?”

“We will,” I reassured her.

“You’re nuts, I’m already full.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not dying to taste these delicious pizzas. Quattro stagioni, Parma, Quattro formaggi, Napoletana, Funghi Porcini, Diavola. They’re seducing you.” 

“Damn, you’re right.” She looked at them dreamingly. “I can’t resist. Neither the pizzas nor the question about your dad.”

“Ask me any question you want. And I’ll answer those I want.” I laughed, but it didn’t discourage her. 

“Well, Willem Vincent. It’s not exactly the name for the seamstress’ son. Also, the carrier of state secretary doesn’t exactly fit. Or the marriage with upper-class art lover Margaret. I don’t even know what to ask first.” She admitted and reached for Napoletana. 

“My Grandma, the seamstress, was totally into Dutch history and as you surely know if you were King of the Netherlands without the name Willem it doesn’t really count. She also absolutely admired Vincent van Gogh’s paintings.” I started simply and took a bite of Quattro formaggi. “Dad always wanted to become a photographer. Although a pen and notebook were a lot cheaper than a camera, so he studied journalism instead. He worked as an intern in Times weekly, when the Iran regime collapsed in 1979. No one wanted to go there as a correspondent. It was too dangerous. Yet, he accepted. Two weeks before Iraq invaded Iran in 1980, my mother’s father, a skilful diplomat, came to Iran as Chargé d’affaires. I do not know the exact details but in June 1981, my dad saved my grandad’s life and ended heavily injured. Back in our homeland, they became friends. And that’s how Willem Vincent, a son of the seamstress, met Margaret, the daughter of upperclassmen. He was clever and competent, and even when that almost death experience changed him, it didn’t break him.”

Steph stopped chewing. I kept talking. “About the state secretary. He didn’t want it. At first, that was only ad interim proposal in the time of the economic crisis on the table. It should be for eight months. The new prime minister convinced him to stay. And his successor did something very uncommon. Ask dad to continue his work. He lasted 9 years. Would do more, perhaps. He resigned only after mother’s breakdown according to Jamie's situation.” And also Kate Marsh thing. That I didn’t mention though. “Mother is the most resilient woman I know, but that lies and poison Jamie’s ex-wife spread, almost killed her. That’s why dad never reconciled with Jamie. And never came back to work. Now he’s just taking photos of butterflies in our garden. Or watering the carrots and Making waffles for mum. And when everything’s done he’s counting how many photos he has to sell to buy her a new Cecily Brown painting.” 

Now I was sure I blushed thinking that in the world of politics he was a total badass. But with mother, he always became a big softie. Absentmindedly I thought about Max Caulfield. How badass she had been today. And wondered If I would ever see her soft side. Steph swallowed her last mouthful. 

“You killed me. This can’t be true. It’s a movie plot. One of Martin Scorsese’s movies, no doubt.” She made me laugh again.

“I think dad would prefer Terry Gillian or Christopher Nolan. Ridley Scott, perhaps.” I took a bite of Napoletana. I was glad Steph let a half for me, it was my favourite. Actually, even when she tasted all of them while I was speaking, she left a piece of everything for me too. It was cute. 

“You know what, I think they should make a sequel. About Willem Vincent’s amazing daughter Victoria. Who saved this pathetic industrial design student from becoming a total fool, dragged her away from the girl who dumped her. And then fed her and made her human again. To you.” Steph raised her glass and finished her wine.

“Thanks, but I’m not amazing. Not even close.”

“Come on, you obviously inherited your mum’s beauty.” She looked at the mother’s picture she had googled before. “I’ve bet you also have your father’s determination and will. And goodness.”

“You’re kind but definitely not.” I shook my head. “I’m more similar to Jamie. Impulsive, naive, making stupid shits all the way. I was a copy of his attention whore ex-wife when I was a teenager.”

“Exactly. Was. Past tense. No one is gonna convince me you’re still like that.”

The heat came back to my face. Hopefully, Steph was right. But even if so, even if I changed, it was me who had uploaded the video of hammered Kate Marsh online. Her cut wrists will be forever on me. That I couldn't change. But I hope there was at least something useful I could do.

“So did you enjoy the food?” I smile at Steph warmly.

“Absolutely, but I’m becoming a bit tipsy and sleepy. I’m sure I could listen to your stories for hours, but in my current state I’m afraid I’d fall asleep.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll understand. I’ll call an uber and take you home.”

“No need for that.”

“I want to.”

“Alright, fine. So let me at least pay for this. Do they accept credit cards?”

“No one’s paying."

“What? Is it part of your plan to distract me? We run away without paying?”

“No, silly.” I shook my head amusingly. “Jamie’s paying. He has an open account. Once a month he always comes to visit, and we eat here. He also pays for my other visits. Usually, I only have some pasta and dessert, but I don’t think Jamie will notice or mind. He’s a freaking football player. It’s so much better he spent his money on making you feel better and fed. And me also, rather than buying new shits, he doesn’t need at all.”

“Oh, fine. Okay. I’m too tired and too tipsy to fight. I just had to accept the thought I own Jamie Alistair, famous Ajax striker, multiple dishes dinner.” 

“Forget Jamie. Take me out instead. I’m much more fun and actually will have dinner with you not only posting stories on Instagram about it.” I joked being pretty sure we are never going to meet again.

“Gotcha. Now, if you excuse me.” She smiled and headed to the bathroom.

In the meantime, I called her an Uber. Steph was über exhausted, and she needed well-deserved rest as soon as possible. Paolo also stopped by, curious about _mi tesoro._ I thanked him for the great dinner and explained that Steph is neither my girlfriend nor my future girlfriend. Heaven saved me and sent her back before he could tease me some more. We said our goodbyes and I didn’t think much about joining Steph. I just did. Her head rested on my shoulder automatically, and with the same ease, my hand slipped into hers.

“It’s going to be alright.” I squeeze it.

“I know.” She said. “It will hurt, and I’m going to suffer for days or weeks seeing Taylor almost daily. But thanks for showing me, there are still a lot of good things around.” Her eyes closed.

“So whatcha think about Friday's game. Ajax really rocked, ey?” The driver asked, and I wondered how he could possibly know I’m Jamie’s sister, but then I realised I just wore the team official hoodie I had stolen from him. We chatted about the game, and I sensed Steph smiling against the crook of my neck a couple of times, usually when I mentioned too much hair wax on Jamie’s hair. First I thought she fell asleep, but she was listening the whole time. The drive wasn’t long, though. Ten minutes approx.

“Come. We’re already here.” I nudged her softly. Technically I could just release her and ask the driver to take me to my place. I had no heart to leave, though. And no desire to face Taylor and Taylor. 

“If we must.” She spoke with reluctance in her voice and didn’t move an inch. Which was only the confirmation my presence is not unwelcomed. 

“Thanks, pal.” I patted the driver and fetched him a bill I found in the pocket. The drive was already paid because the uber app in my phone was sync with my credit card, but today I felt like giving something extra to anyone who was at hand.

“Ladies.” He cried happily.

I dragged Steph out of the car and kissed her forehead. And then the most unbelievable thing happened. A romping couple almost dashed into us. And one half of that overly happy couple was no one else than Max Caulfield. She wasn’t uptight, or solemn or anything. She was enjoying herself. But not because she was focused on her task, like in the afternoon. I saw her genuinely cheerful for the first time when being in the company of a person. Well at least before we started to gape at each other.

“Sorry guys.” Said the other half of the couple. The girl in jeans, oversized hoodie and baseball cap. She was one of those girls that would look hot even in a potato sack. “We were a bit into each other and didn’t see ya. “ The girl apologised and pointed to the entrance door. “Go ahead.”

“No harm done,” I replied and moved to the entrance door, my hand still in Steph’s and my eyes still fixed on Max Caulfield. Same as hers on me until she disappeared from my sight.

“What a day, first I ate on Jamie Alistair and now, I met Rachel Amber, the actress from Universal Hospital.” Steph pointed, taking the lead for the first time today.

“Rachel, who? It was Max Caulfield.”

“The other girl? Do you know her?”

“No. Yes. I mean--” I felt my hand squeezed gently as a reassurance there is a sympathetic ear around.

“She’s my classmate. Max.” I was overrun by heat saying that name twice in a short moment. “But I don’t know her.” 

Steph unlocked the door with number 404 and pulled me in. “I can only offer the water, coffee, or maybe there also will be hibiscus tea here somewhere.” She said, kicking off her shoes.

“I’m good.” 

“Good, because I’m sure I depleted all my energy and the only thing I’m capable of is falling to the bed.” She said and did exactly that. I was about to say I should go, but she spoke first. “Will it be too much to ask you to stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“No, it won’t.” I sat on the edge of her bed and put a blanket on her.

“Tell me about this Max.” She found my hand and intertwined our fingers.

“I told you, I don’t know anything about her.” 

“But you want to.” Steph murmured half asleep. “Your eyes lingered too long to hide the longing.”

“Did they? Well then, maybe I want to. But I guess Max Caulfield is a woman of lots of secrets and I’m the last person in the world who she’d be willing to share.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the sequences in Italian are not right, feel free to correct me. It's been a while since my last time in Italy.


	10. Backfire

**Max Caulfield**

**Tuesday, October 22, Day 36, Year 1**

I closed the locker and sighed. Was I really going to do this, I wondered. First time in the gym. Well, technically, it wasn’t the first time. Not even in this particular gym. But it definitely felt like the first-time experience. Because I was about to work out with a professional. I had had P.E. classes at high school, and now in Academy, I was attending self-defence and advanced fitness training. Both were killing me. Which was the main reason I had decided to follow professor Jiwe’s recommendation and called Sara Lance, the personal trainer. The only good thing was that she worked in a commercial gym, so I wasn’t obliged to wear ugly army green official gear like when in the Academy gym.

Not that I looked outstanding in these black sweatpants, but at least I didn’t remind a sack of potatoes. Although my confidence was far from high. Two girls changing next to me and their nice toned bodies had something to do with that. I took a towel and a bottle of water and was trying to find comfort in the fact that if I had to suffer in here at least, I’d be rewarded with a nice view. Out of the locker room, I found my way around the reception, but nervousness showed no intention to leave. I had already been here once. A week ago. So the gym wasn’t wholly unfamiliar. Back then, I hadn’t worked out or anything. Sara Lance just had explained to me how the gym works and how working out with her works. Then we had gone through diagnostics, and she had told me my trapezius is overly strained.

From the first impression, I didn’t look like a heavy lifter, so the reason behind the tension is probably in my head. She had claimed. Well, there were lots of weird things in my head. Why not the reason behind trapezius strain? I had also been informed, it would do me no harm if I improve my breathing. It hadn’t been a surprise, professor Jiwe had already told me that. I still didn’t understand though, it was just breathing, wasn’t it? How difficult it could be? I spotted trainer Lance, blond long-haired hottie, in the martial arts area and she also noticed me approaching. The bright smile and quick wave went my way, then her focus got back to her previous activity. 

“Jab! Jab! Cross! Uppercut! Jab! Knee! Elbow!” She was yelling at the agitated girl who was hitting the punching bag, according to the instructions. 

And that girl was no one else than Victoria Chase.

_Bonkers. But hey, why not? A week ago, you saw her holding hands with a girl. Now Ms Perfect, impeccable fashion icon is hitting the punching bag Ronda Rousey style, being all sweaty and ungirly. And still super sexy. And holy fuck, Max. Stop lusting after her! Just stop!_

I stopped, fortunately. And they stopped, too. 

“Great job, champ!” Trainer Lance gushed and hit Victoria’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Sara.” Victoria took off the boxing gloves and high fived with her coach. “I let you know if the schedule change is permanent and if we can continue with Tuesdays.” She was at ease and full of joy. For the second time in the week, I saw her in a completely different light. Utterly far away from what I thought about her so far. Maybe it wasn’t her. She had a twin. Yeah, that must be it. I instead cajoled myself than admit Victora Chase could be… ...was likeable. 

“Sure, thing. And in the meantime don’t forget to do some functional, okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Victoria saluted, “See ya,” and turned on her heel. And her eyes laid on me. She was as much surprised as I had been three minutes ago when I had recognised her. 

Before I could resolve the internal dilemma of whether I should say hi to her or not, Sara Lance hooked with my arm. “Come, Max, we have a lot to do.”

“If it’s not what you did with Victoria, I guess I’m cool with anything.”

“You know, Vic? She’s awesome, isn’t she?” Sara Lance chirped.

“I-I…” I had no idea what to say. Did I know Victoria Chase? Hell, freaking not. Sara didn’t miss my uncertainty, although she came to a conclusion our incoming time together was behind it.

“Hey no worries,” she encouraged me, “I won’t engage you in high-intensity training, yet. That’s Amaya Jiwe’s job. We, my dear, have a completely different task.”

“Our task, are you talking about breathing?”

“Come on, once you get it, everything will change. Why do you think one can last only two minutes without breathing? But days without drinking, weeks without eating and years without thinking?”

She was funny. And witty and quite a looker. Not as hot as Victoria. _Dammit, Max. Rather come with some equally epic response._ “Years? Without thinking. By any chance. Have you had supporters of Geert Wilders in mind?”

“Perhaps. And Donald Trump’s. But back to breathing. It’s absolutely essential, and you’ll see the proper breathing will improve every aspect of your life. Physical, mental, sentimental.”

“What?”

“Come, let’s do some breathing.”

And we did. I’ve never looked at breathing the same way again. For the next couple of weeks, I’ve become a permanent resident in the gym on Tuesday’s evenings. I’ve learnt a lot about my body, about my mind and about how difficult, yet rewarding was to say a simple hi. 

I was not aware of it, yet. But this _gym hi_ Victoria and I exchanged once in the week, was another significant game-changer. It was the start of seeing the bigger picture where Victoria wasn’t the person she appeared to be at first sight. That was more about her than met the eye. And this realisation worked both ways. Because of this knowledge that she could be different, I was becoming more and more sure in my faith, I didn’t have to be the person that many considered me for. Weak, delicate, indecisive. 

* * *

**Victoria Chase**

**Tuesday, October 22, Day 36**

“So it’s in the week. Next Saturday, actually.”

“Uh-huh.” Hayden had waited for me at gym reception and kept rambling about his brother’s wedding ever since. We were supposed to get through the details of our fake relationship. But as much as I tried to focus on his words I couldn’t. What the hell was Max Caulfield doing in my gym and how in the world she happened to be training with my coach. It would make me excited, well it had done for three seconds, but there was the look. She had been looking at me the same way, she had done a week ago when I had run to her with Steph. I neither could decipher it back then nor now, but it gave me willies. 

“Why do you even need to come here? We have a fully equipped gym in the Academy. And it’s free for the students.” Hayden asked, unhooking our arms and headed to the driver’s door of his silver C-class Mercedes. No wonder he wanted to stay on the good side of his family when they had bought him such a car. Before I could answer that the best trainer in the world who also happened to be my trainer worked there, I spotted someone on the curb. A second person after Max Caulfield who I would never ever expected to meet in my gym. Or on the way to my gym.

“Steph!” I waved at her. “Hi, Steph.” She looked up, and the corners of her mouth went up as well because she smiled. She definitely looked better than a week ago. Still, the worn expression didn’t disappear, and dark circles under both of her eyes suggested sleep wasn’t something she often encountered recently. I took a step towards considering if I should hug her. I wanted to. She definitely could use a hug. But to be honest, we were strangers. The strangers who shared some lovely moments a week ago, but still strangers.

“Hi, Victoria.” Steph dropped her gym bag and threw her arms around me. I followed and clutched her tightly. It definitely didn’t feel strange.

“Vicky, babe. Please. We are in a rush.” Hayden pleaded. Steph stepped away from the hug. “We have an appointment in Christian Dior at seven. With this heavy traffic—" He kept talking about the dress fitting, but staring to Steph’s desolate eyes, it didn’t reach me at all.

“Just wait in the car, Hayden.” I barked, maybe too harshly and didn’t even look at him. I heard him groan, but the car door slammed, so he listened.

“How are you doin’, Steph? No lies, please.” I asked with a soft voice so different from the one that spoke to Hayden a moment ago.

“I live.” She shrugged.

“And you’ve also decided to come to the gym, that’s something.” I tried to enthuse her.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve done. I have a lot of nervous energy, and I was thinking hitting something hard would help to… I don’t know... to release it? Like you said, the other day.” Steph explained fidgeting. “I don’t want to keep you from your boyfriend.” She added.

“Gosh, He’s not my boyfriend. And you’re not keeping me from anything.” I was sure the manager in Christian Dior was paid enough to wait ten more minutes for my dress fitting.

“Too young for you, I see.” She retorted. “And I’d also say not sophisticated enough. But wealth is not an issue at least.” Her chuckle made me thrilled. There was still a will to make jokes deep down inside her despite all that suffering. Before I could reply that Hayden’s major problem is his _equipment,_ not his age or mental capacity, Steph became severe again.

“You know, I actually hoped I’ll meet you here.” She sounded almost guilty to admit it. “I’d call you, but I didn’t have your number and asking Taylor wasn’t an option. We’re kind of not talking to each other at the moment.”

So this was about Taylor. It disappointed me. And honestly, we weren’t on talking terms either, since I couldn’t stand that fuckboy of hers.

“Look, Steph. There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry for the mess, but some girls are straight. And Taylor is probably one of those girls. Maybe there could be a spark of gayness in her, putting pressure on her right now is the worst idea, though.”

“No, that’s not…” Steph gulped. “I get that. That ship sank. She doesn’t even look at me, anymore. And I need to stop thinking why. I should not think at all.” As much as I tried to understand what she’s telling me, her message stayed undelivered yet. But I wanted her to feel safe to share anything. My eyes bid her continue.

“You seem to know a bit about this heavy work out stuff and martial arts and releasing the stress. Maybe you can help me with training. Or maybe just recommend a routine or trainer. I feel like I need this or I’ll go crazy. I’ll pay.”

“Oh, stop. No paying.”

“I don’t want to impose. I just… Not many people in my circles do these things. Martial arts things. Actually, no one. And my guts are telling me, it could help. Beating the shit out of stuff. Or people. And I--I need to move on. I need to feel better. I can’t live like this. I--” She was a second from crying.

“I’ll help.” I pull her into the hug. “I’ll show you. It’s going to be alright.” I expected her to crumble, but she didn't. My promise seemed to be enough to give her the strength she sought for.

“Thank you. Some basics will be enough, and then I’ll continue on my own.” She pushed me away, and I would swear she was ashamed and relieved at the same time. Embarrassed of her almost meltdown and relieved, she prevented it eventually. I stared at her and thought she was remarkable. After two years of slowly falling in love with Taylor and a major hint they could actually be together, she had been dumped relentlessly. And only a week after, she was ready to move on and kill the gym. Many in her shoes would still be crying in my bed eating ice-cream and watching _Love Island_.

“Here, write your number.” I fetched her my phone. “I have some errands to run tonight, but we’ll train together. Actually, are you free tomorrow evening? Seven p.m.?”

The silver Mercedes behind us honked. It pissed me despite the fact I knew Hayden’s situation seemed as urgent to him as Steph’s was to her. I took a phone from her and sent a blank message to the number she wrote.

“I’ll call you. Today, do just some light cardio. We’ll destroy you tomorrow.” I reassured her and hopped in Hayden’s car. 

“What makes you think you can honk on me?” I thundered. He would do the same if he didn’t need me to save his sorry ass. But he did need me. So no words came from him. Silver Mercedes moved, and we sat in silence for thirty minutes until he dared to speak.

“I’m sorry. This whole thing is making me nuts. I feel like my head is going to explode.”

It was tempting to tell him, none of this was necessary. He was a grown-ass man who could be whoever he wanted to be. And If his family couldn’t accept him for who he really was, they were a bunch of judgemental narrow-minded assholes. No one needed such people in their life. But it wasn’t my place. I had done terrible things, and my family still loved me. He didn’t do anything wrong. He was just gay. So for obvious reasons, I kept my mouth shut. 

“She’s pretty. And I think she likes you. The gym girl.” Hayden tried to revive the conversation, and I had to smirk.

“She’s pretty. But she definitely doesn’t like me. Better stick with men, Hayden. Women are not your field, obviously.”

“I picked the perfect flowers for you.” He bragged.

“Touché.” The bouquet he sent me was indeed outstanding.

“I’m going to be S.W.A.T., remember? Perception is a necessary trait.”

“Yet, you considered me as some Instagram dummy who’ll fall for your pumped biceps and cheap tricks, when I actually love pussy.” I ranted.

“Lapse in judgement. Besides, your head was in the lap of the handsome guy when I saw you for the first time. Maybe you wanted to be recognised as some Instagram dummy.” Maybe he was right. 

“Maybe I just wanted to avoid horny men’s attempts to seduce me,” I explained. “Why did you make a move then, when it seemed I was taken?”

“I hoped I could make you drunk and convince you for a threesome, where you’ll be excluded eventually.” He said half serious half teasing, but my glare must tell him I wasn’t amused. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m a gay man, and that friend of yours is handsome. Both of your friends.” Hayden concluded and parked the silver Mercedes in front of Christian Dior. He was about to get out of the car when I grabbed his wrist.

“You should not be ashamed of who you are. You should stop hiding. And if anyone will have a problem with it, well fuck them.” I almost felt as sad for him as he looked after he heard my words.

“How many S.W.A.T guys who are gay do you know? Or male police officers? Or just beat cops? How many?” He didn’t sound angry. Just sad. And I realised I didn’t know any. Any gay male police officer, any gay male football player, any gay formula 1 driver. He figured me out and concluded. “See, maybe there is a good reason for that.”

I watched him get out of the silver Mercedes and regretted that I had mistreated him when Steph had shown up. Her heart was broken, but she was out and proud. She’ll heal, and all will get better in time. Hayden though, he was living in the lie and saw no way out of it. And instead of trying to find a way I was helping him to enlarge this lie, this house of cards that must fall down eventually.

**Victoria Chase**

**Friday, November 22, Day 67**

Professor Jiwe dismissed us, and I needed a moment to catch a breath. Not only because of physically exhausting 90 minutes under her guidance. I spotted Hayden standing by the entrance. It’s been three weeks since the wedding. It had gone well, at first. His family had been delighted when he had introduced his classy girlfriend a.k.a. me. But I had to admit if being his real girlfriend I’d run away in no time. All those questions about grandkids, and why I had chosen such an inappropriate career for a woman, who is supposed to support her husband and stay at home, had been out of place. Hayden had been overjoyed about the whole evening I had been disgusted, even when I played my part. He had begged me to continue the faking even after the wedding. I had refused. He had tried again. And again. And he was about to try again. And I hated myself, right now. I wanted to help, and it only worsened everything because now he believed this pretending and appeasing his family was actually a good thing. There was only one way from the gym to the lockers. I inhaled deeply and decided to go through with the encounter. It didn’t go smoothly.

“Victoria.” He insisted when I was close enough to him.

“Hayden. My answer is still no. And it’s not going to change.” I said calmly and intended to pass by him. To my surprise, he dared to capture my wrist. Maybe too tightly.

“Please. I need you.”

“You don’t need me.” I tried to free my hand. “You need to--”

“Victoria, we can make this work. I know we can.” But he tightened the grip.

“You’re hurting me.” My voice was still calm, but I saw he was losing his mind. The images of how to solve this mess were popping in my mind. None of them seemed pleasing.

“Leave her be big boy, or else.” I sensed Zach behind me. Hayden glared at him, but my wrist was still captured. “You’ll know she can knock you down in a second. Use that tiny S.W.A.T. brain of yours and spare yourself that humiliation.” The other voice, Warren's lacked his usual easy-going tone. I wasn’t sure if I could knock Hayden down, but fortunately, he understood no matter what he will do, he’ll lose. So he released my wrist and walked away.

Then I realised I was shaking. 

“Come, Vicky. Let’s sit.” Zach put a hand on my lower back, not too low, though and led me to the bleachers. Warren followed. Frankly, I didn’t expect such support. Warren didn’t stop talking about many different ways I could tear _that S.W.A.T. scum_ apart pondering how he even dared to approach me. Zach just kept stroking my back and nodding. And it made me feel even worse. Because I was partly responsible for this mess. I should never agree to be Hayden’s fake girlfriend. And these boys were nothing but supportive.

“You’re the best, guys,” I muttered after the moment. “But I have to go,” and stood up too quickly, so there was no room left for them to react. 

In the locker room, there was no one from my class, only two cadets who readied themself for the pool, thank fuck. Despite the screwed-up situation, my brain found energy and will to ponder if Max Caulfield had seen how much of the tosser I was. It probably didn’t matter anyway, because she couldn’t care less.

I took a long shower to wash away the guilt and shame and took my time to dress. I so didn’t want to think about what had pushed Hayden to the edge, the task was impossible though. I gathered all my belongings from the locker and checked the phone. There were like zillion _I’m sorry_ messages from Hayden. And an almost equal number of _Where are you?_ from Steph. _Shit. Steph._ We were supposed to meet outside the Academy at 4 p.m., that was 50 minutes ago. With that Hayden mess, I totally forgot. 

“Fuck.” I hissed.

We’ve become, I would say close, in the last four weeks. We hit the gym three times a week together. It had been frustrating with her at first. Definitely frustrating, because she just had wanted to hit something initially and skip any basics and warm-ups. Although she had calmed down eventually. And smiled so much more often. And It made me excited. But what if this attempt to help her will end in disaster, too? Exactly like with Hayden. Of course, I knew the situation with Steph was nothing like that mess with Hayden.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter what my intentions were, everything I touched will become rotten eventually. Good thing Max Caulfied was keeping her distance. I got out of the locker staring at the phone unable to figure out what reply should I text back to Steph. 

“Give me that. Don’t read those shitty messages from that scum.” 

Zachary was obviously waiting for me. And took my phone the moment he spotted me. 

“It’s cool Zach. He actually apologised.”

“I hope you didn’t buy that crap. And I hope you’d never agreed--”

“Me too, trust me,” I told myself thousands of times. 

“Let me drive you home, Vicky. I won’t take any chances he’ll bother you again.”

“Thanks, Zach, but I’m fine.” What Hayden did was a desperate act of a desperate man, but I’d swear he wouldn’t hurt me.

“Are you really, Vicky?” Well, I didn’t feel like being around people, and I just wanted to be home ASAP, that was for sure. 

“Alright, but only a drive home and only if you don’t have other plans.”

“Come.” He beckoned. On our way to his car, I told him where I live, and he told me to keep my voice down. Which was ridiculous. Hayden acted like a dick, but I wouldn’t see him lurking around my apartment. The drive was smooth, Zach tried to keep the conversation flowing. In a casual way. I tried to be communicative enough, only with limited success. At least it didn’t take long.

“You’re the star, Zach. But I’m still not sleeping with you.” I attempted a joke when he pulled the car in. 

“Of course, you don’t. But wait until I go through the surgery. I’m going to be the hottest woman you’ve ever met, and you won’t be able to resist.” He laughed.

“Idiot. You’re an idiot.” And He also made me laugh.

“I am. But your idiot.”

I nudged his shoulder. “Thanks, again,” and reach for the handle.

“Call me if you need anything.”

He was so sweet. I didn’t deserve anyone’s help or support. I was responsible for this mess. And despite my good intentions, for this time I only could hope it won’t end with slit wrists. Speaking of those, it was impossible to not notice Zach’s. When he was holding the steering wheel, the hem of his shirt slid down. There was a fresh bruise going all around his right wrist. He had worn a sweatband in self-defence class, so it had stayed hidden. But I had observed some peculiar moves. And those had suggested his shoulder wasn’t completely fit, and his upper back was at least sore. Seeing the wrist, it all clicked, and I pictured a very vivid image of someone’s grappling Zach and kneeling on his back. Very specific someone. I reached for his hand, and he realised I put my detective skills in use. Before he could flinch, I took it gently.

“It works for you, too, you know,” I offered, but he couldn’t make himself look at me. “If you need anything. For example, an encouragement to talk about this with someone.” My thumb stroked his bruise. “Someone who’ll see this as violence and take steps to punish the perpetrator.”

“No one will believe me.” Zach finally looked up. “His a First Comissonair. Besides, it’s nothing.”

“Violence is violence, Zach. Would you say it’s nothing if you had a sister and your dickhead father did this to her, instead? Would you say it’s nothing if Hayden hurt me?” I knew if I pushed too much, he could close up completely. But I couldn’t stay silent. 

“No.” He admitted. “I wouldn’t say it’s nothing.”

“If you’re ready to stand up against him, I’m ready to stand by your side.” Right now I was a freaking mess, but unlike me and my fucked-up brain, he had a real problem.

“Thanks, Vicky. Now go, before I start to cry.” Zach gave me a light smile, and I rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. When out of the car another surprise rolled over me.

“Holy fuck, Victoria.” My eyes went to the direction of the frightened voice. Steph, who had been sitting on the curb until now, jumped on her feet and threw her arms around me. “I was dead worried.” She mumbled to the crook of my neck.

I couldn’t help but succumb immediately and relaxed in her affectionate hug. “Sorry. I-I’m sorry. I got stuck with something and forgot. I’m sorry.” When I mustered enough strength, I pushed her away cursing inwardly. She was unsettled and surprised by my unusual behaviour.

“No wonder, you refused my consolations, when you have a gem like this around.” Zach stood by me. “Here, your phone.” He gave me back my phone that had been confiscated before and turned to Steph. “Take good care of your girl.”

“She’s not. We’re not--” I stuttered realising it didn’t matter to him because he was already on his way back to the car. So I turned to Steph, instead. “There is no need for you to do anything. I’m fine.” Then turned on my heel and rushed to the apartment complex, where I lived. Of course, she tailed me. Of course.

“Victoria, what’s wrong? You can talk to me.” She slipped through the entranced door. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” I sped up the stairs. 

“Damn! I hope Taylor’s not at home.” She grunted and caught up with me eventually. I knew Taylor and Taylor went to Amsterdam to attend Taylor Swift’s concert but if I lied she’s behind the door to our apartment Steph wouldn’t know and leave this be. Although I couldn’t make myself speak. When I finally opened the door, it must be clear to Steph that my roommate wasn’t around. And that gave her courage. She gently touched my arm, and I finally stopped. I didn’t dare to face her, though.

“Come on, please talk to me. Just tell me what’s wrong.” What wasn’t wrong? But none of it was for share. I hated being a wreck like this around people. Jamie or Taylor were exceptions, but it wasn’t like I showed them this side of me willingly. Somehow I had been able to keep my shits together in front of Zach. And I needed to do the same with her and put an end to our uncomfortable encounter.

“Everything’s fine. I just have some work to do. We’ll hang out another time.” I demanded and firmly believed she’ll be on her way. She wasn’t. Instead of leaving, she reached for my shoulder timidly. I flinched. My body didn’t want to. But my brain gave it an exact order. Her hand retreated, but she didn’t step back. I needed to turn the bitch mode on.

“There is no need for you to do this, Steph.” I exhaled heavily, knowing I was yearning for her to do this. To comfort me, to come to me, to hold me. Although I was unquestionably positive, I neither deserve her attention nor her concern. “We are not friends or anything. So it’s cool, really. Have a nice afternoon.” I added flatly and turned away from her. If she could just freaking leave. I heard doors thudding and relished a bit of relief. Not for long, though. A tentative arm encircled my waist from behind. My muscles stiffened immediately. For this time, Steph didn’t allow my body’s reaction to discourage her.

“Don’t say we are nothing, Victoria.” Steph’s hot breath touched my neck, and normally it would lit the fire of arousal inside me. “You’ve been there for me when I was down, and I want to be here for you as well.” But this time, I sought acceptance, she couldn’t give me. She shouldn’t. Steph clutched my hips and moved my body slowly so I could face her.

How could I resist such temptation? She was looking at me like I wasn’t a bad guy. She lifted her hand and traced my face with her gentle fingers. Her eyes softened a bit more. There was no doubt she considered me as a decent human being who deserved to be treated like one. Like my parents, had done after I had confessed to them of how significant was my involvement in a slit wrists incident. No matter how much I screwed up, there were always people around ready to back me up. And I fucking didn’t deserve it. 

“This is not about some broken heart, Steph. This is—This—” I choked and freed from her touch and took a step back. I would take more, but there was no room left behind me. My body hit the shoe cabinet, and I swallowed hard. Steph's gaze became more intent. And something changed behind her blue eyes. 

“It’s about the girl who cut her wrists, isn’t it? Because of the video.”

“No. I mean. Fuck.” I had no clue if her voice became quiet all of a sudden if she really said those words in hushed whispers, but I barely could catch them. I felt faint. Drained. Defeated. “Yes, I guess. Somehow it’s always kind of about her.” I admitted and clutched the cabinet behind me with both hands. Before I could go crazy with assumptions, she explained.

“Taylor told me a couple of months ago. Our friendship was becoming more…” The sound of her voice trailed off in the void, “...profound.” She continued after finally finding the right word. “She had a couple of tequilas. So did I. She claimed I had to know of the girl who slit her wrists. Of Taylor’s part in the whole picture. Of her regret. Of how much of the bitch she was in high school. And of her best friend, who couldn’t come to terms with what had been done. She never mentioned the name, but it was you, wasn’t it? You put the video online.”

I coughed out the laugh. “Yeah, I’m the villain. If you had any doubts till now, you don’t have to, anymore. And now, I might screw up someone equally. I wanted to help, but my lies only worsen everything.”

To my surprise, Steph raised her hand and wiped the tear from my cheek, gently. The tear I didn’t realise I had shed. “You’re a good person, Victoria.”

Hardly. “I have blood on my hands.” I snapped. She shook her head. Whatever spell was on her I planned to break it. “I lied to the guy's family and pretended to be his girlfriend when I should help him to come out instead. And now he’s a mess.”

“He looked pretty comfortable in that Mercedes and all of his lies when I saw him a month ago.” Steph retorted, putting two and two together. I decided to use heavy weapons.

“Fuck Steph, if I didn’t give Taylor a hope she could be in love with you, you could still be friends. You’d never have to go through the suffering. I am a terrible person! My terrible choices always have terrible consequences!” I shout. 

“I’m doing pretty fine without Taylor if you didn’t notice! Actually, I am super happy that thing cured my straight girl crush.” She yelled as well. It was hard to believe, she argued with me about my decency. 

“I had an affair with an older married woman!” I concluded. Steph finally shut her eloquent mouth. I knew this would work. But it didn’t work the way I desired. She hit me in the shoulder.

“You idiot! That’s not what happened. You didn’t know Anna was married. You were against the involvement. She fucking took advantage of you! You were 18 when she was 33. So you better finally fucking drop your antics Victoria Chase! I’m not leaving.”

“Damn it, Taylor! Fuck. Is there something she didn’t tell you about her best friend's past?” I resigned. Steph did a fucking great job convincing me I wasn’t scum.

“Well, what can I say. She’s talkative, and I used to like listening to her soft voice. Stupid, I know.” She softened. I growled and beckoned towards the living room. “I also know that you kissed when you were 12 when playing truth or dare. You liked it. She didn’t.”

“You’ve been allowed to enter my life, but you have to do better than a bit of consolation if you want to tease me about old crushes,” I told her with all seriousness. 

“What about, you make yourself comfortable on the couch, and I make you some comfort food in the meantime. And then I’ll leave you thinking about if I will be allowed to take another step in our friendship. How does it sound?”

“You can stay for a while, you know. Taylor is in Amsterdam for Taylor Swift’s concert, so she won’t be back till midnight.” A moment ago, there was nothing else that I wanted more than snuggle into a blanket with a jar of Nutella and watch SEX and THE CITY. But right now, Steph’s company was too appealing to dismiss. 

“Sounds good to me. So is the kitchen unlocked for me?”

“We can order. You don’t have to cook.” I was touched by her offer to cook for me, but she had already done enough. Although her cocky grin suggested, she wasn’t done, yet.

“Do you have some tomatoes, cheese and sandwiches?”

“Yeah.”

“So trust me, this will be better than any takeaway."

“Well, Steph Gingrich, the kitchen is yours. And when you’re done, you’ll find me on the couch. And if your awesome food will diminish my self-pity, I’ll let you pick what we are going to watch. ” 

It didn’t take long, and she was back with the best tomato soup and grilled cheese. And it did wonders to my mood. I actually let her choose the show and spent hours snuggled with her watching _Project runway._ I was so at ease I even fell asleep in her arms. 

“Come on sleeping beauty. This couch will break your neck. And your comfy bed is waiting.” The soft voice tried to bring me back to the land of awaken. 

“So you want to drag me to bed. Good to know, S.G.” I teased and lazily opened my eyes. And was shocked right away. It wasn’t Steph who was there with me. “It’s not, we’re not, I swear.” I jumped on my feet. Taylor reached for my arm and pulled me back.

“It’s cool, Vic. Steph told me about today before she left. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.” Taylor ran her hand up and down my shoulder, and I remembered how much our friendship always meant to me.

“Not that I shared stuff with you, recently.” Whether it was because of Taylor’s fuckboy Taylor or my own deepening connection with Steph we barely talked during last month. 

“Not that I lent an ear much.” She shrugged. “Oh, Vic com’ere,” and pull me into her arms. “I’m so sorry. I was such a selfish bitch this last couple of weeks.”

“It’s fine. We are fine. Best friends forever, remember? No boy or girl is going to change it. Ever.” I reassured her and lingered in the hug until she pushed me away gently.

“I must admit, it was peculiar to see you snuggled together--”

“I swear Taylor, we are not--” She put the finger on my lips.

“Let me finish.”

“Fine, go on.” I exhaled still a bit afraid of what she was going to tell me. 

“I knew I hurt Steph. I lied to myself there was no promises between us and I didn’t do anything wrong, that I didn’t lead her on but deep down I knew I hurt her. When that wanker in the bar talked shit about lesbians, I freaked out and chickened out. Steph had suffered, and I couldn’t even look her in the eye. I should talk to her, try to explain but instead I chose to be a coward and did everything in my power to ignore her.”

“Your approach could be better T., but It’s not your fault if you’re straight.” I was glad she finally admitted this. And I couldn’t stop myself from challenging her. Whatever happened between the two of them, Taylor needed to come to terms with it, too eventually. She continued.

“And one day, Steph wasn’t that sad anymore. And the other, she was laughing again. I have been watching her from afar becoming happier and happier. And part of me was thrilled to see her like that. The other, though. I could barely stand it that I wasn’t the reason for her happiness anymore. I suspected there was a girl behind it. And I hated that girl from the bottom of my heart.”

Taylor looked so small and vulnerable, I restricted myself from interrupting and swallowed the remark that she could be the reason for Steph's happiness if she decides to do so, in a second. 

“And, today talking with her again I understood it was you. You made her happy again.”

“Taylor, we’re just friends.” She waved with her hand obstinately and shook her head now, fully crying.

“Just let me finish, will you?”

“Fine.”

“She’s happy again, and I cannot thank you enough, Vic. Because Steph deserves all the happiness in the world. And I want you to know, I want-- I--” She crumbled. I ran to the bathroom and brought her some napkins. 

“Thanks.” She said after the moment when some of her composure was back. And also a lot of her tears and nasal mucus were gone. “So I want you to know that you have my blessing.”

“Taylor, we’re just friends. I did a lot of horrible things in the past, but I would not date the girl you liked so much that you questioned your own sexuality.”

“I know, I know. But I’m telling you, if there will be any spark between you, go for it. I will not hold it against you. Or Steph.”

“Seriously, Tay--”

“Seriously, Vic. You’d be perfect for each other. And If I can’t be the reason for her happiness, it would be so great if you could.”

It was hard to believe what she was saying, but I didn’t doubt she was serious. And it was a great feeling to know she loved me so much as a friend to actually give me such a _blessing._ Although there was no chance, anything will ever happen between Steph and me. So there was no point in pondering if we could be a match. “When you’re having your period?” I teased.

“Yesterday.”

“So that’s why you’re an emotional wreck, right now?”

Taylor sighed and grinned at me. “No. Yes. Maybe a little bit.”

“So I should not ask you, then why can't you be a reason for Steph's happiness?”

“I just can’t. I’m straight and stuff.” She shrugged, and I knew there was a glimpse of doubt in her.

“Straight?”

“Yeah.”

“So is spaghetti until it’s wet, you know?”

“Oh, stop it, Vic. Let’s watch one more episode of _Project Runway_ and go to sleep. It’s getting really late.”

“It’s Friday, Tay. We don’t have school tomorrow. And I slept like a baby until now. In the arms of sweet and sexy Steph Gingrich. I have enough energy to tease you about how you could sleep in there instead.”

“Seriously, Victoria Chase, stop. The only girl who is allowed to enjoy my delicate body in her arms is you. So launch Netflix, and I’ll bring some ice-cream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Some important notes…**
> 
> I would like to say that this is the ultimate Chasefield story (with no MC’s cheating). The subplots may seem redundant at first (especially those that are coming). Still, I hope it’ll make sense eventually why things had to happen the way they are happening.
> 
> I have strived to show Victoria in all her complexity, to uncover her flaws and her inclination towards making the wrong decisions.
> 
> I’ve also desired to depict the whole process of transformation of Max. The transformation that is mostly affected by Victoria’s presence in her life.
> 
> Because despite the initial spark, they were incompatible on the Day 1. Although everything they have been going through makes them a perfect match, eventually.
> 
> I wanted to explain why Victoria is the way she is. Why she is a sucker for love, why she doesn’t believe she deserved to be loved. Why she bullied Kate Marsh. But most importantly, why she’s unconsciously avoiding Max and keep shooting herself in the foot. In such an environment, it must be Max who breaks the ice. And that she cannot do before she embraces her potential. She really comes to the Academy as a scared little kitty. She doesn’t care about people around or connections, romance. She only wants her life to have a purpose again after years of nothingness. There is a beast within her, of course. But at the times when this beast wakes up, it makes her confused. She doesn’t know, yet how to deal with it.
> 
> Nevertheless, because of Victoria, she’s slowly coming to an understanding there is more to life than revenge or nothingness. And this is happening even despite the fact, they have almost no verbal interactions, at first.
> 
> Such a colossal transition cannot happen in a day or a month. I’ve always considered myself more of the Architect type of writer than Gardener. I already know how the story ends and how the characters develop. Nothing is completely written in the stone. I am making changes on the way according to the feedback and other things. Still, the main pillars of the story and characters are already built.
> 
> I could only hope you’ll give them a chance, even when some of their decisions are not the best course of action at the moment. They’re just humans, after all. And if not, well, thanks for reading anyway and maybe we meet again around my next story.
> 
> **…and some unnecessary ones.**
> 
> Also, maybe you noticed I’m using some of DC’s Legends of Tomorrow characters. When all this had started, I intended to write two stories that are slightly crossovers, taking place in the same “universe”. First a LiS Police Academy AU and second LoT AU with personal trainer Sara Lance as the MC and published them simultaneously. I failed. This story is pretty big bite, and I must abandon the personal trainer one, for now. (Which I guess you as LiS fans, don’t mind at all). Although I’ve kept the characters from LoT as minor characters.
> 
>   
>    
> 


	11. I Want...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit Content.

**Max Caulfield**

**Saturday, November 23, Day 68, Year 1**

I was staring at the screen of my laptop but had absolutely no freaking clue what was happening. Alas, there was no point to continue this binge-watching. I closed the Netflix window and just lied down for the moment.

_“Victoria, we can make this work. I know we can.”_

_“You’re hurting me.”_

The disturbing scene from yesterday replayed in my head. It caused an imminent burst of anger. The memory was like an out-of-body experience. I was watching myself ready to break the bones of that wanker who dared to touch Victoria against her will and then Zach and Warren intervened.

I was crazy mad with the audacity of the S.W.A.T. guy. And irrationally also with Victoria. Why in the hell she had gotten involved with the fucker like him in the first place? Just when she had started warming on me. Gawd, I had such a massive urge to hurt him in the worst possible way.

 _Oh, Max. You know this whole line of thinking is completely ridiculous._ My brain pointed. Victoria Chase was none of my fucking business. We weren’t friends, we weren’t acquaintances, we were freaking nothing. Yet, I couldn’t resist the temptation to find out what happened yesterday. I reached for the nightstand and grabbed the phone.

_Wanna play some Scrolls of War?_

I texted Warren with zero intention to play. 

_You betcha._

He replied in no time, and I moved myself and the laptop to the desk. He started the monologue, the moment I launched the game. I didn’t even wear headphones yet. So far, everything was going well. While we were clearing Forsaken Caverns, he told me about his lunch. Then he continued about the new episode of Umbrella Academy. In the end, he explained how wearing the t-shirt over the t-shirt was so last century. The last idea wasn’t his own; I was sure.

“So…” I finally found the courage to ask, the words didn’t come easy, though. “...what do you… what...”

 _“What do I think about the Lila plot twist?”_ Gawd, no. He had already described that plot twist from four different angles. “ _I think--_ ” And was ready to bring it up again.

“Yeah, that plot twist is insane, but I’ve had something else in mind.”

_“Whatever you want, Max. WHATEVER YOU WANT. Just spill the beans.”_

Whatever I want.

I wanted Victoria Chase out of my head. Or maybe I wanted her in my bed. Or perhaps the confirmation she’s not that girl who’s fucking around would be enough. So, I wouldn’t feel like a pathetic, self-destructing fool about the fact that I found her… …likeable.

“What do you think about yesterday self-defence class? You know, the thing? It was pretty intense, wasn’t it?” 

_“Oh, man, tell me about it.”_ He started vigorously but didn’t clarify anything about Victoria's situation instead oozed about how he overpowered Drew in sparring practice. Frankly, I had no such memory. But it could be because I had been pretty occupied by staying alive. The word sparring wasn’t in Kristine’s dictionary. Only the manslaughter. 

“That was pretty awesome, Warren. But I was thinking about the S.W.A.T candidate scene.”

 _“That asshole got some nerves. Victoria turned him down like zillion times.”_ He thundered, and the relief overflew me. And for this time, I was even glad for Warren’s inability to cut to the chase. I enjoyed hearing every detail about how Victoria wasn’t involved with that testosterone S.W.A.T. giant. I appreciated it so much, I’ve become too daring.

“Is she seeing anyone, then? Are Zach and her an item?”

I asked and realised the boldness and stupidity are often the same thing. Because if the answer to any of these questions was Yes, I would prefer staying in a world where ignorance was blessed. Fortunately, Warren assumed Victoria wasn’t seeing anyone. Definitely not Zach. He said he couldn’t be 100 percent sure. But according to his words, she was special and deserved someone who would love her to the moon and back. And he neither noticed anyone like that around her, nor she mentioned such a person. I had done. The girl Rachel and I had seen with Victoria a couple of weeks ago. But she hadn’t shown up again. Could it be they were just friends? Or keeping a low profile?

“I’m done with Scrolls, wanna grab a coffee?” It was chilly November evening, but the forecast didn’t say anything about the rain. And I felt I needed to do some walking to process everything that Warren told me. 

_“Sure thing, Mad Max. I’ll meet you in twenty.”_

He got offline, and I got curious. Will the future hold anything for Victoria and me? I could fight it as much as it got. However, this curiosity/infatuation (I still couldn’t quite get my head around), this thing wasn’t about to go away. I needed to learn how to pull myself together when facing unpredictable situations, to understand how to have control over them.

Whatever I felt for Victoria, I must shape it to some form of acquaintance. Friendship, perhaps. Yeah, that could be great. It would make me stronger, more resilient and more capable of finishing my ultimate task. If I learn how to deal with such overwhelming and mercurial emotions I had harboured towards Victoria Chase, it’ll help me to become an outstanding cop. And I will be ready to step up my game when I finally encounter Elliot Hampden.

But how would I achieve that? I had no clue. Because Victoria showed no desire to be more acquainted with me, and nothing suggested it was about to change. And there was also another flaw in the plan. I have been here for almost three months. I wasn’t setting myself on fire anymore. I didn’t stutter when I spoke and being around people didn’t bring sheer terror anymore. Yet, the sole idea of talking to Victoria Chase specifically, made me weak on my knees. I bet I would blabber like an imbecile. Only simple Hi once a week always felt like a tremendous challenge. Rewarding yet difficult.

* * *

**Victoria Chase**

**Saturday, November 23, Day 68, Year 1**

“Come on, Chase. Hit me harder.” Steph prompted. She really had become a decent sparring partner. 

I performed a couple of quick jabs and crosses, but she dodged all of them with ease. Nevertheless, no matter how good she was, she still wouldn’t be a match for me, at normal circumstances. Today was different. 

“You like it hard, don’t you?” I tried a sneaky uppercut and finally breached her defence, and she hobbled backwards and gave me a chance to catch a breath. I suspected it wasn’t my excellent attack that brought me success but my mischievous words. 

I couldn’t explain what was going on with me. How did it start? And why? Was it the fact that I had allowed myself to be vulnerable around Steph yesterday? Or the memory of her softness and her daring elaborate scent that stayed with me since I had fallen asleep in her arms? Or Taylor’s ridiculous _blessing?_ Was it an ultimate conscious effort of my unconsciousness to get rid of Max Caulfield infatuation?

I could bend over backwards, still, with no promise of the answer. I only knew it had been messing with my head. Like when we had met in the locker room an hour ago. Normally we would have some meaningful chat about Steph’s day or mine or how I was about to kick her ass for a thousand time. Today I had been nervous and apologised for asking her to stay because she had been forced to interact with Taylor. Steph had said it was no trouble and surprisingly she hadn’t felt anything. No ache, no remorse. She had even admitted that perhaps they could be friends again if Taylor would be up to it. And then she had taken off her shirt to change into sports clothes. I’d seen her shirtless countless times in the past four weeks when we had been working out together, and I had felt nothing. But today my eyes had lingered where they shouldn’t, and I bet they had been more hungry than appreciative. She had noticed but shown no sign she minded. That had been the last straw. Because of her silent approval, I had stopped feeling guilty lusting about her. And that’s exactly what I was doing when Steph punched again. I didn’t expect the strike at all. I was too occupied with the drop of sweat moving along her neck down to her cleavage. I took no precaution, performed no block, and her front attack hit me with a full force. Thus, it couldn’t bring any other result then me landing on the mat in shame.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” I heard her but didn’t dare to open my eyes. I suspected if I did so, the world around me would be nothing else than a fuzzy mess. And I also felt ashamed as fuck. No one ever knocked me down before. No man and definitely no woman. “I’m so sorry, please don’t be dead. Please.” Steph sounded deadly upset, and I needed to face my humiliation eventually.

“Still alive, but only just,” I said weakly, my eyes closed. “I’m never going to live down this embarrassment. Some cheeky geek knocked me down.”

“Chill down, drama queen. It’s Saturday evening. There’s literally no one in here except for us.”

It was probably true. When we had come, I had spotted a few guys at a weightlifting platform and two girls on treadmills, but there was no one here in the sparring area. This realisation helped to give me the courage to look at the world again and to check if what I was sensing was really happening.

“You dare to call me a drama queen?” I peeked cautiously. Yep, she was straddling my limp body, her boxing gloves tossed aside. “A moment ago, you thought your feeble hit killed me.” And I had a great view of her full breast again.

“So, the idea that I finally breached your mighty defence made you so faint, you went down? Not the hit itself? Is it right, Lady Smug?” She smirked.

“I’m not smug, just extremely capable, that's that.” I attempted to sound confident, but the closeness of her breast and cleavage too deep made my eyes to betray me once more. And of course, Steph caught me again. It was time to come clean. “Okay, fine. You outmatched me.” I adjusted to the sitting position and took off the boxing gloves, too. “But I call for unsportsmanlike conduct. You used unauthorised parts of equipment that gave you a huge advantage." I pointed to her cleavage.

“Oh, I’m ecstatic. Victoria Chase like my boobs.”

“Who wouldn’t like your boobs, Steph Gingrich. Have you ever seen them?” I chose to not dampen my sudden urge to appreciate her figure. I thought maybe if I just let it out at full force, it will go away quickly and never come back.

“I have done. Today, for example. And I swear I didn’t mean to distract you. Actually, I would never think you from all of the people will be distracted by my breasts. They are not posh, or sophisticated or you know, they do not own a yacht or summer house in Amalfi.”

“Jerk. And a cheater. Shame on you, S.G.”

“I’m not!”

“If not, how did you end up wearing this über sexy tank top. It’s not your style.”

“I’ve never planned to wear this top. Buying it was a pure whim. But because I didn’t manage to do the laundry yesterday, I had no choice. I was kind of busy, you know, cuddling with an annoying blond Lady Smug. You should blame her, you ended up knocked down.” Steph smirked, and I find it absolutely adorable. I was so close to losing my self-control. “And also, my friend Mikey.” She continued. “He went to sports clothes shopping with me back then and suggested this piece of garment will make wonders on the ladies. I guess he was right.”

“Well, tell me right, away. Where is this Mikey? He’ll suffer great punishment for causing me to be knocked down for the first time, ever.” I attempted to stand up, but she pulled me back. She was as much involved in this sexy game as I was, it seemed. Everything was cool until we kept it playful, I thought. But the hot jolt sent to my core when she grabbed my hand was making the line between innocent game and salacious lust blurry.

“Leave the poor guy be, will you. We’ll settle this like adults.” She said. 

“Elaborate.” I yearned to know more.

“You are allowed to wear an über sexy tank top next time, so I can be distracted instead. By your boobs.”

“That’s an adult way?”

“Absolutely. Unfair advantage for an unfair advantage. Besides you’ve drooled over my breast. It would be only fair If I had the same chance.”

“Oh, I so did not drool.”

“Yes, you have done. You’re still drooling.”

“Shut up.” I attempted to cover her mouth, but she fought me. 

“Come on, make me. I dare you.” She teased. The fight took only a couple of seconds, and she ended pinned down to the mat. Now, it was me who was straddling her.

“I could in a second,” I said in a husky voice staring at her lush lips, feeling her heavy breaths on mine.

She wasn’t Max Caulfield. Being around her didn’t cause these strange massive waves of emotions, desires and sensations, wholly overwhelming and mercurial. Feelings I was equally terrified and thrilled about. And maybe that was precisely what I needed. I didn’t see myself falling for Steph. Although she was hot and sweaty and sexy as hell. And for what it took I could have my way with her right away. From the pure lust in her eyes, I was sure she would allow me. But when I leant closer, she flinched. It was the tiniest movement, but I couldn’t deny it happened. “We should go, it’s getting late.”

So, instead of devouring Steph Gingrich, I stood up and basically ran to the locker room. I found it empty. No surprise. It was almost 10 pm. I was tempted to come with some excuse that I have to be somewhere and skip the shower. But I always showered after a workout. It was gross to put clothes on a sweaty after workout body. Steph knew this obsession of mine. She had the same. So, if I wouldn’t shower it’s going to be clear, I’m freaking out. Which I wasn’t. I didn’t try to kiss her a moment ago, and it was nothing more than playful banter. 

“You forgot the boxing gloves.” Steph entered the locker room, holding not only her gloves but also mine.

“Thanks.” I took them too quickly and turned back to my locker. The open locker, as I forgot because my mind was getting blank. And I hit my head in the process. “Shit.”

“Are you alright?” Steph jumped towards me, but I backed off. I fucking wasn’t alright. I was shaking from lust or anger or confusion. And I needed to get myself under control, which was impossible tonight with Steph around.

“Fine, I’m fine. Just exhausted.” I spat in a high-pitched voice, keeping my distance. “Shower will help.”

Fortunately, she got I’m not up for chit chat and just nodded. I undressed, wrapped a towel around my body and sneaked around her being very careful to not look.

There were six showers in there. Each one separated by the wall which granted some privacy. But I heard her coming. I knew she was right next to me. Naked. My hand slipped between my legs absentmindedly. 

“Shit,” I muttered when I realised what I had done. My clit was swollen, and the wetness around had nothing to do with the flow of water. I needed to be alone in my room ASAP. I needed to go home and read some steamy Leliana/Cassandra fanfiction on the way. So, I will not be thinking about Steph when the burst of pleasure will release me from this torture. The idea was promising, the realisation impossible. Because the soft touch of my shoulder killed the last remnants of my self-control. I spun around slowly. She looked freaking hot. And hungry for me. With a quick yank, I made our bodies clash. Her erected nipples pierced to my chest, her wet pussy pushed to mine. But to my surprise, our lips didn’t connect. Her raised hand between them prevented that from happening. Before I could freak out, she went down on her knees.

“What are you d--” Fucking hell. What possibly she could be doing? Her mouth was sucked to my clit, and she didn’t even spread my legs, yet. She didn’t have to. I did it eagerly at once. I was drunk with delight. A loud moan escaped my mouth. I covered it with the palm of the hand, but it wasn’t enough because Steph just proved she was a licking goddess. I had to bite it to stop the wild screams of pleasure. I came in no time and locked her head between my tights. When my loose body was about to slide down to the floor, she stood up and supported me. I laid my head on her shoulder, still experiencing the waves of bliss. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” She whispered to my ear and bit it gently. Which only added to my pleasure. I believed I had experienced a good orgasm before, but this wild ride was undoubtedly the one to remember. Returning the favour was the least I could do.

“You are.” I countered and slid two fingers between her folds. She was dripping. The slick heat was everywhere. I pushed her to the wall and lifted one of her legs. And went deeper.

“Fuck! Fuck-- me, please.” She gasped. Because that was exactly what I was doing. Her nails buried into my back. Her teeth into the flesh on my shoulder when she tried to suppress a cry after the intense climax. There will be a nasty looking bruise there tomorrow, but I didn’t give a damn. I pulled my fingers out carefully, and she disentangled from my embrace. I wanted to lick all the juices that left, and then I wanted to kiss her so she could feel her own taste on my lips. And then I wanted to do this all again all night. But I remembered we were in a gym. And Steph wasn’t someone I should mingle with. I had no clue what to do next but staring at her naked body wouldn’t bring my reason back.

“Thank you,” I said. Like she just helped with my biology class assignment and stepped out of the shower. I was still shaking after the incredible orgasm, but the guilt started to seep, too. What have I done? Did I take advantage of her? Of her vulnerable after broken heart state? It’s been more than a month, but still. Steph caught up with me eventually in the locker room, but we both stayed silent. I dressed up and dried my hair quicker, so I told her I’ll wait for her outside.

The early night air calmed my nerves a bit. We had sex. No big. Well, except it was great sex. It was her who sought me in the shower, so I had no reason to feel guilty.

“You're still here.” Steph stepped out of the gym.

“Where should I be?”

“Well, I thought you freaked out and ran away.” She said seriously as we started walking to the tram stop.

“I freaked out a little,” I admitted. “But I would not run away. I-- I’m not--”

“Look, Victoria.” She dropped her gym bag and stopped. “I have to say I’m sorry but--”

Of course, she was sorry. I fucking did take advantage of her broken heart after all. Damn. Fuck. Shit. What a fucked up situation.

“It’s ok. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t. We shouldn’t…”

“Do you regret it?”

“Don’t you?”

She shook her head with vigour. “No. Of course not. What I wanted to say was I’m sorry to not be sorry it happened. It was great. It was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. So, forgive me, but I’m glad it happened. I needed that. To feel wanted, again. And to be able to give someone pleasure. And I would swear you needed that too.”

Everything she said made sense, although it didn’t bring a solution. “So where does this leave us?”

“Dunno,” She shrugged, “exactly where we were in the morning. Or yesterday.”

I laughed. “You know, yesterday I had no memory of your pussy contracting around my fingers. Or the mark of passion on my shoulder.”

She smiled and through the fabric of my hoodie softly caressed the spot she had bitten after she had come. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. It was super hot.”

“So…” She stepped closer and played with the zipper on my hoodie. “Would you mind having more of such memories… or bites.”

Would I mind? No, I would not. Did I want her to decide what will happen next? Thousands of yeses.

“What do you want, Steph?” I asked with all honesty.

She bit her lips and took a deep breath. “I want… I… it would be great if we both were comfortable around each other, whatever this thing between us is or going to be. Friendships or friendship with benefits or anything else. You know what I mean?” I nodded. It was so freaking cute of her, she thought about my feelings too, not only hers. “And if there will be any _benefits,_ we shouldn’t hide it from Taylor. Such things always backfire.” She considered. Even if I hadn’t had that silly conversation with Taylor yesterday, I would have agreed. I let my gym back slip out of my hand and stroked Steph’s lips gently with a thumb.

“You didn’t kiss me in the shower. We had insane sex, but you refused to kiss me.” I declared and let her deal with that statement. She looked down. What she was about to say could reveal more about her desires. Or I expected that. The problem was she didn’t say anything just stared at my chest, playing with the zipper. I lifted her chin gently. If her mouth were not giving me any answer, maybe her eyes would. She gulped, and the answer came. She leant in and pressed our lips together in a slow, soft kiss. It was nothing like what we did in the shower. It was Steph I had been getting to know for the past month. 

“I knew it.” She said triumphantly after breaking the kiss. It was kind of out of place if you ask me.

“What did you know?” I glared at her puzzled. What kind of games she was playing?

“Sorry,” She got serious again. “I suspected you’re a great kisser. I didn’t kiss you because I was worried that I would want to kiss you again. I mean--, I didn’t mind to fuck you like one-time thing but with a kiss, I-- Fuck. Does it make sense?”

“Not really.”

She stepped away from me and raised her hands in frustration. “Of course, it doesn’t. Lemme try again.” She sighed. “Let’s just say with a good imagination and skilful hand you can recreate any scenario and great orgasm. Even by yourself. But you cannot recreate a great kiss.”

“Go on.” I bid her continue.

“From the moment I saw you today, you were a hot mess. Your body screamed, you needed a release. I was struggling if I should take advantage of it. And failed for the matter. But sex is just sex. You can have orgasm wherever, whenever. It was great, but if we’re never going to do that again. I’m cool. Although I must admit, I want to kiss you again.”

I was thinking about her words and couldn’t come with anything to say. She didn’t want to kiss me before, because she would yearn to kiss me again?

“Damn, it!” She approached me hesitantly. “Shit, don’t think much of what I said. You asked I gave you an honest answer. I’m just like that, can’t help it. My heart is always on my sleeve.” Yeah, she was exactly like that, and I loved it. “But I do not desire to complicate things between us. I enjoy the friendship we share and the time we spend together and sex was also great, but obviously, we should not be dating or seeing each other. Or at least now, because it would be so inappropriate and awkward. I see Taylor daily in school, and you live with her. Not to mention you can see my sudden interest in you as a way to use you and get close to Taylor again or get her jealous. Which is absolutely not true.”

“Calm down, S.G. Calm down.” I put my arms around her and kissed her forehead.

“Right, okay.” She murmured to my chest.

“Would you like to have dinner with your gym friend? Like now. At Paolo’s?”

“You bet.”


	12. First Time, First Love, First Dead Body

**Max Caulfield**

**Thursday, December 5, Day 80, Year 1**

I walked through the Academy main door and smiled at Constable de Jong, who was one of today's guards. This huge, spotless representation of the police force returned my act of kindness with the same enthusiasm. 

The day in front of me didn’t give a promise of fun, but my favourite warden definitely improved the mood. Another first time in front of me. The first time in morgue. Yeah! I made it so far, and I was walking there on my own feet, not as a piece of dead meat on the stretcher. My time at Academy proved commendable. But more importantly, I wasn’t setting myself on fire anymore or stuttering when asked anything. Or fainting in a self-defence class and forgetting which hand I prefer when using a firearm. And a month ago the trainer Sara Lance had found me worthy enough to drop the breathing exercises and move to something more advanced.

And last but not least, I’d say my classmates harbour peculiar respect towards me. Plus, my strength and stamina were continually increasing. So was my confidence. I wasn’t and never going to be a queen of socialites. Still, I also managed to get along with everyone, except for Victoria. We were still in some weird limbo. 

Sometimes I wondered if she was deliberately avoiding me. Why would she, though? I was probably just invisible to her. But was I really? There were these hints dropped around. She had defended my idea when Kristine had shoved it off. She had also voted for my photo. And I’d swear I had felt her eyes on me the other day in the gym when trainer Sara pushed me to my limits with the killer AMRAP session for a warm-up. (Although it could only be wishful thinking, because when I had dared to look, where I’d supposed she’d stood, Victoria had been nowhere in sight). One way or another, she was the only person I’ve never talked to except that weird yelling contest in the first week. And of course, once a week hi, in the gym. Which didn’t really count as talking. 

I’d even had a little chit-chat with Zachary two or three times because he appeared to be a fan of Dutch women’s football team, who noticed the scarf hanging on the rear-view mirror of my car was signed. And he was totally jealous that I had met Vivianne Miedema and Daniëlle van de Donk in person. I wasn't his fan or anything, but I was kind enough to not inform him, his crush on them was vain because they were playing for the different team. 

Anyway, the morgue was waiting. I had a lab coat in my bag, a fair amount of sour candies and a surgical face mask I’d altered a bit, to be sure the smell of death had no chance to knock me down. I’d already seen the dead bodies. Grandpa Joe's on his funeral. He had looked like he was sleeping. And Chloe Price's, when she had been gutted. Her eyes had been wide open, and body maimed with dozens of cuts. Maybe it was the survival instinct back then that kept me from vomiting. A lot of twisted connections in my head had been created that day, some were still tormenting me, from time to time, like puddles and soaked shoes or rainy days. But I was sure that if I hadn’t puked back then, there was no dead body in the world that could make me eject containment of my stomach. So I shouldn’t be worried about today. That was one news that could be considered as slightly positive. The other was that I had found out the other day about a special elevator. And this elevator had only a sole role. It led to the underground, so I didn’t have to run those zillion stairs down and then up, again. And If I chose the correct corridor that the elevator should just appear, on my right. Yeah, it did. Awesome.

I called it and got in. It was different from the regular Academy elevators. Narrow and long. Suitable for stretchers with dead bodies. And it only had two buttons. I pushed the sub-zero one. When the doors were almost closed, a hand slid between two metal sheets and made them reopen. 

“Hey.” The person who entered greeted me. She looked my way briefly, but her mind was obviously elsewhere. I shivered. The girl standing next to me was Victoria Chase. 

“Hi,” I replied, but she wasn’t paying any attention to me anymore. The phone she was clutching almost religiously was the centre of her universe. We were locked in the tiny area. I could just do a second-long peeking, and I would see what was on the screen. The temptation was strong, but I was sure my curiosity wouldn’t get the better of me, if… 

If she didn’t wear the hoodie with a remarkable dragon print. Miss I’m the most elegant and classy girl in the Academy wore the shabby hoodie with dragon and jeans and trainers. In three months, I only saw her like this once, outside the gym. And part of me had refused to believe it was real. Two months ago, when Rachel and I had bumped into her. She had been hand in hand with a girl, the original owner of the hoodie, I believed. Even if I hadn’t seen the hoodie on someone else before I would know it wasn’t hers. It was kind of small on her, anyway. And the other thing. I was too close to her to avoid the scent—the vanilla fragrance with a twist of lemon and ginger perhaps. The perfume matched with a woman, but it didn’t belong to Victoria. There was no sign of pomegranate, and that little something intensely erotic, the signature smell of her. Before I knew any better, I was stealing a glance of her phone.

Steph:

_Already desperate to touch me, where I’m touching myself?_

I looked away. And gulped. And shuddered. And a wave of arousal hit me hard. _Fuck._ I felt a massive tremor deep inside my p--- _Fuck. Get a grip, Max! S_ o much for getting my infatuation under control. Now, it was confirmed. Victoria Chase also loved a pussy. Or maybe she _only_ loved a pussy. _Oh, whatever._ It’s not like she was interested in my pussy. Which was pretty cool. Because I couldn’t allow myself to be interested in hers, could I? I had already settled this thing in my mind, hadn’t I? _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ The elevator rang, and I was more than happy to leave her proximity. To my liking, she didn’t keep the pace with me. Her phone probably occupied her enough. In the changing room, I put on the lab coat, stuff my mouth with sour candies and finished the preparations with a face mask. In the transition hall between the changing rooms and morgue, I took a seat on the floor and planned to put some music. It was still a couple of minutes left before the class starts. Zachary joined me sooner than I could bring the plan into life.

“Hi, kitty.” I just shook my head. It was preposterous giving girls these stupid nicknames. “You better not faint today.” He warned me. “There will be too many candidates to give you mouth to mouth resuscitation. And you don’t want that trust me. I saw Warren eating garlic bread, and I’m pretty sure if Drew will try to revive you Kristine is going to kill you right away.”

I rolled my eyes and put on the earplugs. It must be clear to him this conversation was over before it started. My expression must be enough. But before I could turn the music on, Zach dragged down Victoria who was passing by and bid her sit next to him.

“Hi.” She said, still pretty dazed. Whatever magic that Steph girl had, it was immensely strong.

“Are you cool, Vicky? It could be heavy, seeing something like that for the first time. The touch of death, I mean.” Zach turned serious. The enchantment caused by mysterious wizard Steph was broken and Victoria’s dreamy expression gone. As if she realised for the first time where we are and what’s waiting for us. She didn’t reply immediately, though. As if she was going through memories that weren’t those fondly relived.

“Thanks, Zach,” She gave him a smile eventually, “but it’s not the first time for me.” Some seriousness embraced the tone of her voice again. “I’m not all fired up to go there, but a body in a morgue is already dead. It won’t be gasping for air, bleeding. We won’t see life fading away in its eyes. So, I believe I’ll manage.”

“I’m glad to hear.” He took her hand and squeezed it, which she rewarded with another sincere smile. They sat like that for the moment. Holding hands. Unaware that I was eavesdropping. But now, when I knew what I hadn’t known before I saw clearly it was nothing romantic, nothing _physical_ about their touch. It was more like a touch of souls. That kind of connection when you both have been through something that changed you. Something you don’t need to talk about because the other person knows.

“When was your first time, then?” Victoria asked. Well, she didn’t ask, per se. Zachary wanted to tell her anyway, he just waited if she really cared. She obviously did.

“When I was eight.” He looked down to the floor. “It wasn’t long after my parents divorced. Father had sole custody. Only to punish my mother if you asked me. He was called to the case Sunday morning. Some high-ranking CEO decided to eat a bullet. His schemes, lies and greediness were about to be revealed… and infatuation with boys that haven’t experienced puberty, yet. 

Chief Inspector Riggins must be there, you can imagine. But he couldn’t manage to find the babysitter and would never ask mother for help. So, he took me with him. The CEO's head was non-existing. Just a gory mess spread through the half of the room. I don’t suppose one can erase such a disturbing image from one’s mind. Unless you’re a psychopath like my dear father.

 _This is real life, boy,_ he said. What a prick! I puked. Twice. When we came home, he beat the shit out of me for being a pussy. I still have nightmares, sometimes.”

I couldn’t help but felt like an intruder. Those words weren’t for my ears. I must bite my lips to stop the urge to apologise to Zach that I found out what I shouldn’t. The same moment doctor Dhark, forensic pathologist and our Anatomy class teacher showed in the door to the morgue and called us in. 

The room was… well, it was the morgue, so gloomy, bleak, obscure, dark… pick your poison. Professor Dhark, _how ironic,_ uncovered the corpse on the mortuary cot in the middle of the room.

The cadaver was… well, it was a dead body, so grey, demoted, remote, your choice.

The sound of instruments falling down to the floor crossed the unnaturally silent space. It was Drew. He hobbled and caught the medical instruments tray in an effort to not go down. Then he disappeared in the doorway. I’d say he wasn’t far from vomiting. 

Two members of our little group were eager to follow him. First of those was expected. It was Kristine. She was stopped by Trevor.

“Leave me be, skater boy! I want to help.” She hissed.

“Seeking him now will not help.” Trevor released the hold of her wrist but didn’t stop blocking her way to the door. 

“You-you…” The situation was unusual for Kristine. The loss of words was not an occurrence familiar to her. Maybe that’s why she turned away from Trevor eventually and dropped the attempt to follow Drew. Or perhaps it was because Zach was already gone, seeking for him.

Doctor Darkh watched the scene without interruptions and then she waited if Drew and Zachary would be back. When they didn’t show up at a reasonable time, she spoke.

“So, class. A death. Not always present on the crime scene, but sometimes it’s inevitable to face it. Some of you may be a part of the homicide squad when you successfully finish this program. And even if not, as a police officer you’ll encounter death in some form ultimately. Any guesses how to recognise when there’s no life left? Without thorough inspection and manipulation with the body. Which can preserve evidence that eventually could convict the perpetrator.” She turned to Kristine, who was still upset about Drew. “What about you, goth lady.”

“What?” She was far away from here.

“I asked when we can be sure there’s not any life left in the body.”

“Not breathing.” Kristine snapped, not giving much thought to her answer.

“Well breathing is an occurrence of utmost importance if one desires to live, but I have a suspicion Miss Ward hasn't taken a breath since she arrived. Yet, she’s still alive.”

“Only just,” Dana stated, barely audible.

“Finally, a breath. As you can see, breathing can be restored. We need to find other, more reliable signs.”

“Injury.” I heard myself talking. “Or injuries, that are not incompatible with life.”

“Interesting concept. So, what kind of injuries those are. Gun wound?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Can you offer an example, miss Caulfield?”

I nodded. “A vital part of the body separated from the corpse. Like the head.”

“Well, that’s a good example. We all can agree there’s no way to bring a decapitated body back to life.”

“Mutilation of essential organs, like heart, stomach and intestines. Evisceration.” My mouth continued.

“Correct. Even if a person still shows slight vital signs or consciousness, these kinds of injuries mean inevitable death at a very high rate.”

“Lacerations of any artery without a sign of a heartbeat. An aorta, a common carotid artery, a femoral artery, a brachial artery." I went on without prompt from Dr Dhark or my deliberate effort. "Those locations are not difficult to recognise. When the heart is still beating, still pumping blood, it’s squirting out after every pump. When there is no squirting, there is no life left in the body.”

“Something’s telling me you have more to offer.” Her compassionate words sounded remote to me.

“Advanced state of rotting or decay.”

“I don’t think we need details.” Trevor interrupted, and I finally woke up from a weird trance.

“I wasn’t planning to give any.” The tear fell down my cheek. First, I thought maybe it was some drop from the ceiling. Malfunctioned air-conditioning. Because I didn’t feel any lump in my throat or dizziness. But it wasn’t. The trajectory, the composition, the heat. The sadness that didn’t weaken me for the first time but hardened me instead caused it.

“Death is no stranger to you.” Doctor Dhark spoke to me in that same supportive tone.

“I guess you can say that,” I confirmed but this time to her personally. She nodded and faced the rest of our companions. Drew and Zachary included.

“Well, class, the bad news is we can’t bring the dead back to life. The good news is, they still can reveal so much to us. Let’s learn something more about how to listen to their story and make sure it’ll never be forgotten.”

* * *

I was sitting at Rachel’s couch in her cosy two-room Amsterdam flat and listened to her monologue only with half an ear. Instagram had more of my attention than her showing and disappearing in the bedroom, always bringing another outfit. My most frequent reaction was uh-huh. Frankly, I didn’t care what I was about to wear for our night out. The night out. To my surprise, I had agreed to this a week ago and didn’t feel anxious about it. Not particularly eager but not nervous. So, after school had ended today, I had driven from Hauge right to her place in the capital city. 

Rachel had known, today was my first time in the morgue and had suggested we should blow off some steam after. Because of the morgue and because she and Frank had broken up. We were regularly calling recently. More often than ever. Because for this time she wasn’t the only one who initiated the calls. Yeah, I wasn’t the same Max Caulfield I had been a year ago. Or three months ago even. 

“So whatcha think? This leather jacket would suit you, wouldn’t it?” Although I still wasn’t and never going to be that girl who needs to try dozens of outfits when going out. But Rachel still was and ever going to be that girl who needed to do this thing before any night out. For safety reasons, tonight she was about to wear her incognito outfit a.k.a. baggy hoodie, baseball cap and sunglasses. And when she couldn’t dress herself up, I was her substitute target. 

“Just pick something Rach. It doesn’t really matter what I’m going to wear. What matters is that you’re going to be there.” 

“I’d say you’re impossible, but you’ve just given me a compliment so I can’t be mean. Gosh, you’re impossible.” She shook her head and went back to the bedroom again. Trying out outfits was just boring me to death. It bore me to the point that I wrote Victoria’s name into the Instagram search bar.

“Watcha doing, Super Max? When dressing up is not interesting enough?” Rachel materialised next to me and peeked over my shoulder.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” I tried to put a phone in the pocket, but she caught me by surprise, which meant she was quicker and nimbler. The cell was in her possession in no time.

“Victoria Chase.” She teased while evading all of my attempts to take it back. “This account is private.”

“Rachel, come on.” I almost made it, but she escaped me again, and for this time, she locked herself in the bedroom.

“244 followers. That’s not much. And she only follows 131 accounts.” I heard her chuckling behind the doors.

“This is not funny!”

“Oh, it is, Max. I’m having a great time.”

“Well, have fun by yourself. I will be enjoying your couch until you feel like socialising again.” I resigned. Thanks to regular work out with personal trainer Sara Lance and self-defence classes with professor Jiwe I knew how to use my body as a weapon. I didn’t doubt I could kick the door with no trouble. But somehow, I also understood Rachel would not consider it as such fun anymore. So, I let it be. And checked her fridge for a can of grapefruit soda. She always had some because it was my favourite.

“She accepted in no time.” Rachel joined me and my soda after a couple of minutes.

“What have you done, Rachel Amber?” I rolled my eyes in disbelief.

“Nothing. Absolutely, nothing.” She laughed. “Oh, and I also believe my initial guess was confirmed, and Victoria Chase is a lesbian.”

I snatched the phone and didn’t shy from giving her an angry glare. And decided to check Victoria’s profile. The harm had been already done, and it wasn’t private anymore.

The royal palace of Amsterdam, Rembrandt statue, Delicious looking pastry, lots of tulips, Vivianne Miedema’s second goal celebrations in Euro Finals, Interesting, so she had been on the stadium in Enschede that day, too. Maybe we had already met. No, I think I would remember. The pictures were lovely. When I looked at the one with Øresund Bridge, I even shuddered. It was such a vital photo. All of them. That was not what I expected—a lot of selfies and filters but not this. There was actually only one picture of Victoria herself. In embrace with a sports car driver, from Halloween probably. He was dressed as a batwoman, and she was a football player. 

“What exactly makes you think she’s a lesbian?” I turned to Rachel. There was nothing in the pictures. The only evidence supporting this theory was the mysterious _Steph girl._ And in the end, it didn’t have to mean anything. It was becoming a weird trend recently that some attention-seeking modern girls considered faking lesbianism as a cool thing. I would count Victoria Chase as one of these girls three months ago. But did I still see her that way? Nope. Not in the world.

“She’s a football fan. And she follows Elise Bauman and Fletcher.” Rachel gushed.

I thought about Fletcher’s _Forever_ music video, that would totally make me a lesbian if I wasn’t already, but stayed in denial, nevertheless. At least in front of Rachel. And I rather mocked her discoveries.

“Oh, right. That’s precisely what makes you a lesbian. It’s even stronger magic that J.K. Rowling’s. Fletcher! Rachel, you should be a detective. Your observation skills are beyond limits. But you missed the picture with the boyfriend. Or fuckboy or whatever. This is the guy who’s driving her to school every Monday on his Maserati or Ferrari or something.” 

They looked nothing like a couple, and I very much remembered the hoodie Victoria had worn. The message from that girl named Steph was evidence even more substantial. Everything hinted that she was at least bisexual. But admitting this to Rachel would trigger an insane matchmaking attempt. Something I definitely wasn’t ready for.

“Max, don’t be silly, it’s not her lover and never were.” Rachel guffawed.

“How can you be so sure?”

“It’s her brother!” She took a phone and zoomed that pic. “Can’t you see the resemblance? They have the same mesmerising eyes. I would see it even if I didn’t google him.”

“Well, he’s not her boyfriend. Doesn’t mean she’s into girls.”

“Seriously, Max?”

“Maybe she’s just bi-curious.” My resolution to refuse any possibility that Victoria could be a pussy lover in front of Rachel wasn’t diminishing. She started to get frustrated.

“That’s how you see me, your best friend? As an attention-seeking bi-curious--”

“No, of course not. You’re full-fledged bisexual. You had been head over heels with that femme fatale actress who dumped you, don’t remember the name. And…” I reached for her hand and heard my voice softening. “You were in love with Chloe.”

Rachel smiled, but there was an equal amount of sadness in her eyes. I remembered seeing them so very much in love at high school. Everyone had known they were together. Even when Rebel Queen and Queen of the prom had had eyes only for each other, they had noticed that shy sophomore who had been fangirling them. I followed them on Instagram and liked all of their sweet selfies and supportive messages towards the community. It had been them who made me realise what my preferences are and encouraged me to not be ashamed of it. And even when I had admired both, I didn’t feel the same about them.

“Is this why you can’t be serious about anyone? Why can't you ask Victoria out?” I gulped. Of course, Rachel knew, they both had known. I had never needed to tell. “Because you were in love with her? You still are.”

It had been an innocent platonic first love. Nothing desperate or dramatic. Besides, nothing really happened or ever would. Chloe hadn't felt the same about me, and she had been in a relationship with Rachel. It didn’t change the fact I had loved her from the bottom of my heart. So was Rachel right, then? Was it that kind of love that never really goes away? 

“And you can’t shake the feeling you failed her?” The last suggestion wasn’t about me, though. I wasn’t the only one with demons.

“You didn’t fail her, Rachel.” I squeezed Rachel’s hand tighter.

“Didn't, I? You know where I was when she was killed. A hundred kilometres away, in London.” Rachel had been on the two weeks long exchange visit when Chloe was killed. Her father had convinced her it could look good in her resume. “If I didn’t listen to him, I could protect her. She would live. We would--”

“Stop, Rachel, stop!” She didn’t need any convincing to end in my embrace. She didn’t take any time to start sobbing. Damn it. “I’m sorry, babe. I shouldn’t bring Chloe up. Please, please don’t cry.” My hands were running up and down her back, stroking it gently. 

“It’s cool, I’m cool.” She muttered to my chest, then looked up. Her eyes were still full of tears. “We can’t change the past, I know that. She would want us to move on. To be happy, Max.”

“She would.” I wiped a small tear from her cheek and gave her a soft smile, and to my pleasure, it made her smile a bit, too. “I’m sure she would. And I promise you this when I will become an inspector, I will reopen her case and bring her justice.”

“So, now. "she started tentatively, "when we settled that, are you going to take your chances with Victoria?” I had to chuckle.

“Why are you so relentless about this?”

“Because,” she shrugged, “because she woke something inside you. Something that had been sleeping for a very long time. I saw it a couple of times already, and I can’t unsee it.”

I had already settled lying to myself about these feelings won’t help anything. The more rational way was accepting that Victoria Chase had a strange effect on me, and I also wouldn’t mind fucking her. One way or another, there was a catch. Lots of them, actually.

“Well, look at this picture.” I showed Rachel a photo of the sports car driver. “She wears an Ajax jersey.” And tried to sound serious. “Not in the world, my proud Feyenoord heart would get involved with Ajax supporters.”

“Oh, Max, you almost got me with that football nonsense.” She burst into laughter. Rachel was probably the only person in the Netherlands who didn’t like football. “So, you’re gonna ask her out?”

“No.”

“But--”

“Just listen for a minute.” Listening was the last thing Rachel desired I supposed, but to my surprise, she let me speak. “I believe she’s with a girl, who--”

“You’ve thought the whole time she’s into women, and despite that, you were giving me all that crap about--”

“Rach, please. Just let me finish.”

“Fine.”

“I might be doing better every day, dealing with everything my mum irrationally tried to protect me from for years. Yet, I have no clue if I could manage seeing someone. Especially not someone so convoluted as her. Besides, Victoria Chase doesn’t even know my name, she’s probably involved with that geek girl we saw her with, and she’s way out of my league. Yes, I’m attracted to her, but that’s the end of the story. I’m also attracted to Lieke Martens, and I still have zero chance with her.”

“What? Who’s this Lieke Martens? Why I never heard about her?” I loved Rachel, but this complete ignorance, according to football, was annoying. And also her crazy effort to hook me with someone. I made a super heartfelt confession, and she only noticed I mentioned another girl.

“Seriously, Rachel?” I rebuked. “Lieke Martens, national hero, FIFA women's player of the year.”

“Oh, Max. “ And my infatuation with football was probably equally annoying for her. “You brought some celebrity football player into this? Victoria is real. But fine, I will not press it anymore.” Rachel promised, nevertheless, I wouldn’t bet my money on it. “I just want you to be happy to enjoy life. Everything’s better when you’re not alone. When there is someone around. For sex or for feelings or both.”

“How many times do I need to tell you? I’m not alone, I have you.” I said in all seriousness and finished my grapefruit soda. “And being in the Academy is all the happiness I need, right now. So come, show me the outfit you picked for me for a girl’s night out.” Then tossed the can in the trash and dragged Rachel to the bedroom.

Her matchmaking mana was drained for a moment, so she dropped the topic. Unfortunately, it meant the dressing up energy had been replenished. Mercifully, she came with a brilliant idea of how to enthuse me about the whole thing. She filled me with some shots of tequila. It definitely helped, and when we were leaving her flat to clash with Amsterdam’s nightlife, I was already buzzed. Not much, I still could function properly, but I couldn’t fight the munchies. Rachel suggested her favourite shawarma food truck before we hit the bar. The scent of the great chicken got to me in advance, but something else did, too. And it was far away from pleasant.

Two rowdy and wasted guys had a dispute with the food truck owner. Well, calling it a dispute wasn’t appropriate. These two totally hammered barely standing wackos were calling him names and sending him back to Syria. Because he’s a low-life and poison of our society. They dared to say. Geert Wilders would be proud. I was disgusted by them. Calling the patrol was my first thought. Before I could, everything went surreal in no time. Rachel tried to intervene telling them to stop. One of the guys pushed her away and smashed the beer bottle in his hand, threatening her to stay away from it, or he would gut her, too.

The broken glass in the hand of the villain was a memory I already had. And I saw red. 

Maybe it was a residuum of alcohol still in my veins that unlocked peculiar behaviour patterns. Perhaps it always had been in me, just sleeping. Or maybe it was first and also the last time it happened, and that’s why I practically blacked out. 

When I came to my senses, I was kneeling on the chest of that drunk trash punching his face. The other guy lied next squirming in pain, holding his crotch.

“Max, Max, it’s okay. It’s okay. He had enough, you can stop. He got the message.” I looked up at the slightly worried Rachel, and then his mangled face and my hands balled into fists and scratched knuckles. 

I jumped on my feet, unable to process what had just happened. I was just a girl. Yet, I managed to beat the shit out of these two brainless delinquents. Of course, in theory, I must know how to pacify an aggressor who was bigger and stronger than me. Three months of practice had given me more than basics. But these guys weren’t pacified. I had finished them.

“You're a real badass cop, aren’t you?” Rachel stroked my back and brought a bit of calmness. “Are you hurt?” She took my hand. I shook my head. It was just a scratch.

“Are you?” 

“No, thanks to you.” She reassured me, and I realised the whole scene lured a crowd. And also a patrol. 

“What happened here?” One of the officers demanded. The morons were bothering the Food Truck owner. Was the first part of the story. Me beating someone who was already incapacitated and non-aggressive was the last one. The one that would not be in my favour. 

“The two _gentlemen_ showed terrible manners, were acting rowdy and causing trouble. They should be fined for destroying this man’s property. ” Said a gorgeous dark-haired woman. I would guess she was in her late twenties. “And these two honourable citizens who know what to serve and to protect means were attacked too when asked them to respect the law. ” She pointed at Rachel and me.

“Miss, that guy’s face is smashed. I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve but if you’re not planning to tell me what happened here, rather stay out of it.” The officer warned her.

She took out something from her bag and put it in his face. I recognised a badge. She was a cop, too. “I’ve been with corps for a couple of years and saw many peculiar things. One of those today, when _this gentleman_ fell on his face and hurt himself.”

“Thirteen times.” Added the beautiful woman’s companion, equally radiant female, with perfect ponytail and legs almost as long as Victoria’s. Almost. She was unable to hide the chuckle.

“So surely, you consider my testimony reliable. Which precinct are you in? I’ll stop by tomorrow and give it officially. Now, identify these criminals and fine them! And deal with the crowd.”

“Of course, Chief Inspector Riggins. And it’s 21.” He wouldn't dare to oppose but had difficulties to hide the disdain.

Riggins. It could be a coincidence. But the resemblance was undeniable. She was related to Zachary. When the patrol was fulfilling inspector’s Riggins ' request, we safely distanced from the scene. If I got it correctly, our presence was no longer required, thanks to the inspector. 

“Hey. Quite an achievement.” She joined us. “I’m Nyssa,” and offered her hand.

“Riggins?” I spat. It wasn’t the politest thing to do. Especially when she just saved my ass. But I was still out of sorts trying to figure out what in the hell just happened.

“Yeah, the asshole First Chief Commissioner is her uncle.” The radiant companion nudged her shoulder, teasing. “I’m telling her she should marry one of those many suitors to get rid of that nasty surname, but she’s not listening.” Initially, the name reminded me of Zach, but yeah, his father really was a First Chief Commissioner. And according to many hints, also a tremendous douchebag. 

“I’m not really a marriage type.” Inspector Nyssa nudged her friend back and lowered her hand when I didn’t go for a shake. So, you’ve never encountered such pigs in line of duty before?” She supposed I was a cop, too. Wowser. I listened to her revelations but stayed weirdly stuck.

“She’s not on active duty, yet. Just the first year in Academy. Special PI program.” Rachel linked our arms and offered when my response was only the mute stance. 

“Pretty skilful then. The only flaw is her beastly temper. She almost executed those low-lives.” The radiant companion with long legs concluded with a snide remark that finally made me speak.

“I didn’t… I didn’t intend to hurt them.” I claimed but didn’t convince anyone. Not even myself. The rage was gone as we were speaking, but echoes remained. 

“I believe you did.” Inspector Nyssa confirmed what was undeniable, although she didn’t see it as something wicked. “But it’s alright. To feel like that. Those scumbags would hurt your girlfriend. You’d be a psychopath if it didn’t rile you up.”

“She’s not…” I didn’t finish. Nyssa did.

“What’s important is that you stopped yourself eventually. And in time you’ll learn how to tame the beast in you. So, it’ll be you who control it, not the other way around. You have a significant connection with humanity, I see. It’ll be your guide.”

I looked at my scraped knuckles and realised that never before had I been so confused about who I really was. For my whole life, my mum had been trying to convince me, I’m delicate and need to be safeguarded. Recently I worked hard to lose this label and now some beast within appeared.

“We are heading downtown. So whatcha say? Are you and your _not girlfriend_ in a mood to blow up some steam and join us? She could definitely use a drink.” The radiant companion turned to Rachel because, to this point, I didn’t give an impression I mastered the ability to speak. Fortunately, there was no need to use verbal communication with Rachel. “But first, there is a pharmacy there. I’m sure Nyssa is all fired up to show her survivalist skills and heal the wounded beast.” A leggy companion concluded with a grin.

Was I really a beast? Would I want to become one? I didn’t have an answer. Weirdly I remembered a morning encounter with Victoria and the text I had secretly read. _Already desperate to touch me, where I’m touching myself?_ There were so many feelings swirling inside me, and I wouldn’t expect arousal could join. Inspector Nyssa was not Victoria. But her friend just suggested she would not mind a casual encounter with me. Besides, she was smoking hot. I looked at Rachel and made her know I’m still up to nights out. She smiled, then turned to the other woman.

“And who are we joining exactly? Except for inspector Riggins, master of survivalist skills?” She teased her, and I smelt an eventful night for both of us.

“Lena Luthor” The wing woman spoke with all seriousness, but the tease was hard to miss.

“Yeah, yeah. And I’m Kara Danvers.” Rachel replied evenly.

I sensed Nyssa’s eyes on me. “Just, Max,” I added briefly. “Now, shall we?”

* * *

I lazily opened my eyes and saw the room lit only by moonlight. And so was Nyssa’s naked body. It had been a wild night. And even wilder sex. I checked the armband. 5:23 was the time on the screen. The night had served the purpose, and all of my systems were reset. I still wasn’t an ordinary young woman, probably by any means. But all this made me feel so normal. Going out, having fun. It gave me a lot of strength to continue the task that was anything but ordinary. I couldn’t miss the irony of the situation, though. If I had known I was capable of something like this three months ago, maybe it could be Victoria Chase there next to me in the bed right now. Maybe it could be me who’s texting her _if she’s already desperate to touch me where I was touching myself,_ not that freaking Steph. Yet, it was how it was. There was no point to cry over spilt milk. And hey, maybe the thing between them wasn’t anything serious. Victoria didn’t put her on her wall. Maybe I still had a chance. Only if I knew what kind of opportunity I desired to follow.

I let myself wonder if I should wake Nyssa up and tell her I was about to leave but decided against it. We had made it clear this was nothing more than a one-night stand. There was no need for a goodbye kiss. And as a cop, she could benefit from as much sleep as possible. I slowly disentangled from her body and gathered my clothes scattered around as silent as it got. Before I left, I gave her perfectly shaped body the last look. That’s when my phone chirped.

“You said, you don’t have a girlfriend.” I heard her mumble.

“What?”

“It’s…” She reached for the nightstand. “It’s half-past five in the morning. Only a girlfriend or a stalker dares to write at half-past five.”

“The Instagram notification,” I informed when I checked the screen.

“From a girlfriend?”

From Victoria Chase. Wowser. Well, that I didn’t say. Just, “no. Don’t have any. Not a girlfriend material.”

Nyssa stood up from the bed and sauntered towards me in all her glory. “You know if you could give me one more hour to sleep. I could at least make you breakfast.”

“You made enough for me already, Chief Inspector,” I said and went for the goodbye kiss anyway. “Farewell.”

“Hey _Just Max_ ,” She stopped me again, “if you’re ever in town and feel like having some fun give me a call. Perhaps. Just don’t do it if you’re not single anymore. I’m not sleeping with cheaters.”

“I’m not a cheater,” I smiled. “And the single status is not for the change. So, see you around. Perhaps.”

Before I said it out loud, I had no doubt, it was the saddest truth. But when I heard those words coming out of my mouth, a strange feeling I neither could describe nor understand overflew me. Maybe it was all that first-time occurrences I’d been experiencing recently, but for the briefest period of time, I actually could imagine that status would change once. And I’m gonna accept such commitment. And the only person who fitted to the role in my mind was no one else than Victoria Chase. For better or worse, she obviously wasn’t on the market at the moment. Nyssa’s offer was the safe bet. She was a completely different case than Stella. She would not use the pronoun us when talking about her and me and mean it as “US”. She would not invite me to her mother's birthday party or plan our mutual vacation. It would be just sex if I decided to go for it.

 _I don’t have to decide right away._ I cajoled myself when meeting with a new day. And of course, also believed that the recent notification from Victoria (that she desired to follow my account) had nothing to do with postponing my decision. 


	13. Believing in a Lie, Doesn’t Make it True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is going on the same day the previous one.

**Victoria Chase**

**Thursday, December 5, Day 80, Year 1**

I jumped out of the tram and checked my armband. 57 minutes until my first class will start. I should be good. I had already taken a shower. I just needed to change clothes and grab a lab coat. We were going to the morgue for the first time. I unlocked the main door to the apartment building where a flat Taylor shared with me was situated and ran up the stairs. All my muscles were sore, especially abdominal. I shivered at the memory of what caused the soreness. I still felt Steph’s hands on me, her fingers inside me. I had difficulties keeping my attention on the keys and the lock because, in my mind, I was still with her. We had agreed two weeks ago that friendship is the best course of action. And broke this promise on the next day. Then we come to the firm resolutions there will be no sleepovers, just sex. Well, it seemed this one was broken, too. Although, the truth was we didn’t sleep much. I finally defeated the lock and got inside the apartment.

“It’s not _late,_ V, it’s early.” I heard Taylor’s playful voice coming from the kitchen. We always texted each other when coming late, so the other wouldn’t be worried. I kicked off my pumps and took off the pink peacoat. “Taylor’s making breakfast. Luxury omelette, would you fancy some?” She asked, when joined me in the hall. Her eyes laid on my upper body. “Eventful night?”

I wore Steph’s hoodie because my shirt had gotten torn during the foreplay. She must recognise it. And even if I didn’t wear the hoodie, she would see I had been fucking the whole night. It was all over my face, and she knew me from scratch.

“Hey, Vicky. Will you have an omelette with us?” Taylor, the fuckboy Taylor appeared behind her. Or maybe he already had been promoted to boyfriend. He was really thorough to stay clothed when I was around, and he also worked as a line chef and could cook amazing mussels. That’s why I didn’t find him as repulsive as before. 

“Hey, Taylor. Thanks, but I’m afraid I’m in a rush, so I have to pass.”

“No worries, I’m going to make you something you can hold in one hand. And coffee in the other and still run to wherever you need to be.” He smiled, kissed Taylor on the cheek and disappeared in the kitchen. I slipped around her and dashed to my room. They looked happy together. And I definitely was happy too, when Steph was around. Maybe it all had worked how it was supposed to.

“So, are you dating, now? You and Steph.” Nevertheless, I couldn’t miss the hint of sadness in Taylor’s voice when she followed me. And the pinch of guilt in my guts. I undressed the hoodie and black high waist trousers and scanned the closet for today’s outfit. But nothing caught my attention when the option to put back the hoodie, that still smelt like Steph was available. And I also desired to have an opportunity to skip answering Taylor’s question. The first wish of mine was unusual but manageable. I was positive that I had some blue jeans somewhere and a pair of trainers that could match with the hoodie. Normally, I would not wear such an outfit to school, but whatever. The other pressing matter couldn’t be solved as easily. I turned knowing I must be honest with my best friend.

“We are not. I mean we’re just---”

“Having great sex.” She gulped and licked her lips. The sadness was gone, and to my astonishment, her gaze darkened with something… something utterly unexpected. A Lust? But she wasn’t lusting after me. Her eyes were roaming my almost naked body, but it wasn’t my body what she was infatuated with, I realised. I had a few bite marks on my stomach and thighs. Scratches on my back and I was pretty sure also a hickey under the collarbone. She was consumed by the desire for what had been done to me. Or maybe by who had done it. I unhooked my bra and threw it at her.

“Stop staring, you perv.”

She laughed and threw it back. I picked it and put it in the laundry basket together with my just undressed panties. Then found a new pair of lingerie in the wardrobe. 

“She’s great in bed, isn’t she? I’ve always thought so.” Said Taylor and sat down on my bed.

I blushed and hid in the closet in an attempt to find the blue jeans. We were like sisters, Taylor and I. That bond we shared was precious to me, as only a few things in this world. We knew each other for years and told each other absolutely everything. But this was weird. I finally found the jeans and put them on.

“She is,” I stated simply. Taylor gave me a poignant smile. She tried to hide the melancholy, but as I said, we couldn’t hide anything from each other. Thus, I saw. I sat down next to her. “It’s okay if you’re not okay with that. I could stop seeing her. I mean not seeing her, because we are not seeing each other just...”

“Fucking occasionally?”

“I could stop, if you….” I trailed off again. Could I really stop? I offered something that was beyond the bounds of possibility. At that moment, I couldn’t imagine losing Steph. She was a great relief. She had gotten the Max Caulfield infatuation out of my head. But Taylor was my best friend, and I couldn’t lose her either.

“Why would you stop, Vic? You make her happy, and she makes you happy.”

I felt my eyes stinging. How was it possible that I was always able to create such an impossible situation?

“What about you Tay, are you happy?”

“Y-yes.”

“Oh, for fuck sake, you fucking stuttered. Don’t you dare to lie to me, Taylor Christensen! I’m your best fucking friend, damn you!” I grabbed her shoulders intending to shake some sense into her.

“Easy, Vic, easy” She shoved me off. “I just miss her, that’s all. I’m with Taylor now, and he’s great, but I miss her as a friend.” Would it be a lie, it was still easier to pretend it wasn’t than accept the truth. For both of us. So, for the sake of my own sanity, I chose to believe Taylor was sincere. As much as with me as with herself.

“You can still be her friend, you know.” I offered.

“Oh, come on, Vic. I indulged myself in her affection, led her on and then ran away from her without explanation. And remember that part, when I ignored her for weeks? I hurt her. Not in the world, she would desire to be my friend again.”

“She does.”

“She told you?” I nodded. “That’s unexpected. And also, amazing.”

“Just talk to her, will you, Tay?” Now she nodded and kissed my temple.

“I love you, Vic. And don’t forget I meant what I said two weeks ago. You and Steph would be perfect for each other. And If I can’t be the reason for her happiness, it would be so great if you could.”

“That’s not only up to me to decide.”

Whether she planned to encourage me further or not, her words remained unsaid because Taylor, the line chef, showed up in my room.

“I ma--” He spun in a millisecond and covered his eyes. “Sorry, sorry, please don’t kill me please.” 

I looked at my torso covered only with a bra and then at my Taylor, and we both burst into laughter.

“Don’t worry, hun. She won’t. I love you, and she loves me, so she loves you, too technically.” She explained while I grabbed a white t-shirt from the closet and put it on one and all with Steph’s hoodie.

“I do not love him, but if his breakfast menu is at least as good as his fried mussels, I let him live. So, what’s you say? And you can turn, by the way, I’m already dressed.”

He dared to face us again, but with caution. “Peanut butter jelly sandwich for breakfast, because you looked like you needed a load of sugar after a tiresome night.”

“Sounds good.” I heard my stomach yearning for that sandwich. “I’ll let you live for now.”

“Wait, wait, I’m not done. I also packed you some broccoli cheddar tots for lunch that left from our yesterday late-night Kitchen nightmares marathon. You can eat them without reheating and with one hand. The perfect finger food.” As much as I couldn’t stand him in the beginning, he was probably the best from all of Taylor’s boyfriends/fuckboys. “And green smoothie instead of coffee.” Or not.

“Oh hun,” Taylor, my Taylor, stood up and shook her head in disbelief. “We are not Instagram wannabe influencers. That creepy part of our lives stayed at high school, thank fuck. What makes you think we prefer some green shit to coffee?”

“But--, damn. You’re not breaking up with me because of that?” He sounded dead serious.

“What, no but--”

“That’s great because I was kidding, love. Did you really think I would make your Mackenzie Davis a.k.a Terminator Grace friend a green smoothie instead of coffee and risk her eternal wrath?”

Yeah, he wasn’t all that bad. I had to give him credit. “Grace from Terminator? That was thin ice. But I liked it. And thanks for the meal.” I gave him an appreciative smile and gathered what I needed for school. He gave me a KeepCup with coffee and paper bag with food, and I thought only one thing could make this morning better. If I didn’t have to go to school but back to Steph and share everything that paper bag contained with her. And maybe then also some more orgasms. It wasn’t an option, though.

In the tram on the way to school, I relished the PB&J sandwich and coffee and wondered if I should text Steph. I decided against it. It was only an hour or so since we had seen each other, and we weren’t dating or anything. There was no point to be über social. I was about to meet her tomorrow anyway. 

* * *

The day was long and eventful, and there was nothing I wanted more than crash into my bed and sleep. Or so I thought before I noticed Steph standing on the green in front of the Academy. She texted me in the morning eventually, but it was an only short exchange about how great our sex was. So, her presence was even more surprising. 

“Bye, Zach, see you tomorrow.” I waved to Zach, not waiting for a response and I believed he understood. My legs just lead me to her. She noticed me too and smiled. And so did I.

“Hey,” I said, stopping in a significant distance. I couldn’t be tempted to kiss her or such. We weren’t dating or anything.

“Hey. So, you like the hoodie.”

I loved it. _It smells like you_ , I thought. But it would be so stupid to say that so instead I was faking indifference. “It’s not Michael Kors, but it’s not terrible.”

“I’m so sorry about the shirt I told you I’ll buy you--”

“There’s no need for that.” I found myself holding her hand being too close. Damn, some gravity. “So, anyway what are you doing here? You’ve had a change of heart, and instead of seeking art lovers you hoped I could introduce you to some hot police officers?” I joked.

“No, just you. I’ve come to see you. I missed you.” She said _you_ three times and every other you sounded more tender. “Damn, I’m rambling like a fool. You probably have plans and--” And suddenly I didn’t give a shit about the world around. I needed to kiss her. She wasn’t ashamed of missing me. What a nice change considering my previous encounters. She wasn’t in the closet or married. Steph wasn’t afraid to make me, just me, one of her priorities as it seemed. And that was something I wasn’t used to.

“I missed you too,” I admitted into the kiss. And felt her smiling.

“So wanna hang out? I mean now. Outside the gym. Or bed. Or shower.” She was super cute. I could just sit down here on the grass and watch her rambling and still considered it as time well spent.

“I’d love to, but unlike you with only one afternoon lecture today, I had no time to recover after our eventful night. I’m afraid I’d be a terrible companion.” Steph’s presence definitely was like an adrenaline shot to me, but even my body had limits. Which I hated at the instant.

“Okay, no problem. Can I at least walk you to the tram stop?”

“Or maybe, if you don’t mind, I’ll probably fall asleep on you, we can go to your dorms and watch some Runway project.” 

“What a splendid idea! Come.” She offered me her hand, and I gladly accepted. 

* * *

I rolled on my side and subconsciously tried to snuggle with a blanket? I opened my eyes. Steph was nowhere at sight. The room had gone dark and was lit only by the dim light of Steph’s laptop at my feet. I must doze off the moment we had arrived. Because I didn’t even remember what show we had been watching. But what was more peculiar than my sleeping schedule was Steph’s disappearance. I swung my legs off the bed and stretched a bit. The sudden coldness surprised me because the room was probably warm enough. But it seemed I sought a different kind of warmness.

_The phone._ An idea popped in my fuzzy brain, and I spotted my bag hanging over the chair. Instead of standing up, I did everything in my power to stretch and reach it from the bed. I was successful, eventually. But it was so so, and I was only a second from falling down at one point. Well, thank you, my amazing athletic and strong body, I smirked and check the phone.

Three messages were waiting for me. One from Taylor, one from Jamie and one from Warren. None from Steph. 

_ Taylor:  _ _Can I borrow your pink peacoat? Date night and nothing fits with my new skirt, yikes!_

_Sure, babe, have fun._ I replied at once. The other message I’d rather ignored but couldn’t anymore.

_ Jamie:  _ _You missed the last three games, and I miss my little sis. Is everything alright? Hope there is not another Anna situation._

_Everything’s fine. Just busy with school. CUS. Luv U!_

I wasn’t quite sure why I was reluctant to tell Jamie about this fling with Steph. Yes, he was always opinionated about women in my life and sometimes over-protective. Still, he wouldn’t have anything against this encounter, would he? I dismiss the idea he could, at once and read the third message.

_ Warren:  _ _Way to go, Vicky, I knew you are a better match for the girl from the bar than another blondie. Anyway, if by any chance she has a sister, you know who to call._

_Not you creepy stalker :p. Just FYI, she doesn’t. But if you’ll behave, Imma give you some more tips how to be desirable for girls. Even better than no t-shirt over a t-shirt. ;-) L8R_

I hit the reply button and smiled at my own joke. Warren had probably seen us in front of the school. Well, speaking of Steph, I browsed the contact lists and intended to call her when another notification popped up. A request to follow me on Instagram. The sender of a request got me out of balance, and I hit the _accept_ button without knowing what I was doing.

“Shit.” And now Max Caulfield was following me and could see all of my pictures. “Damn it!” Well, It’s not like I was hiding some secrets in there. But being Jamie Alistair’s lesbian little sister could potentially attract weirdos and stalkers. Making the account private was just a rational precaution. I briefly checked my photos.

Royal palace of Amsterdam, Rembrandt statue, Fika feasts I had with Taylor when we spent summer in Sweden, Vivianne’s Miedema second goal celebrations in Euro Finals, Tulips, Tulips and some more Tulips. And my super favourite, Øresund Bridge. Only one picture with me personally was from last Halloween. Jamie was supposed to be Batwoman, and I was supposed to be Ajax Amsterdam best striker (him). He was funny with a red wig. And I was ridiculous with too much hair wax and fake muscles under the Ajax jersey. Well, If Max Caulfield desired to see this, so be it. I thought and heard the dorm room door opening.

“Sleeping beauty’s awake. Great timing.” Steph declared lunging towards me, both of her hands clutching a branded paper bag. “Hey.” She sat down next to me and kissed me briefly. I was too stunned to take any action. I just watched her raise and put both bags on the desk. The kiss lasted like five seconds. And it was nothing more than a soft touch of lips. You wouldn’t do that with your part-time lover, with someone you’re occasionally fucking. It wasn’t erotic enough. But you wouldn’t do it with your friend either. Because she lingered precisely that period of a time that made it a little bit sensual and she chose lips over the cheek. It was the kiss you’d share with someone you’re sharing more than a bed. And I really should not hold onto that for so many reasons. But it was tempting.

“How long have I been sleeping?” I asked when she was unpacking all the takeaway food. Two Kapsalons, two diet cokes and two Griesmeelpuddings. 

“Three hours approx. Almost four.” She gave me one of the metal take-away trays with Kapsalon and plastic fork and joined me in bed. “So, tell me about this day that exhausted you to the point you fell asleep the moment your head touched the pillow.”

I put a mouthful of shawarma meat covered with slices of Gouda and layers of iceberg lettuce and sense the warmness spreading around my body. She didn’t ask because she intended to keep the conversation flowing. Or because a little chit chat was a prelude to sex. She asked because she was genuinely interested. 

“Do you really desire to hear about the morgue?” I said my mouth full of food. Which I did only when I was dead drunk or with Taylor or Jamie around. I was an upper-class daughter, after all. But with her, I just enjoyed living in the moment.

“I desire to hear about your day.” She said, and I noticed a small stain of garlic sauce that remained on the corner of her mouth. 

“Well, the morgue could be heavy. Drew North, the big tough guy found out the worst way.” I wiped the garlic sauce with my thumb and licked it. “But Max Caulfield. She’s a phenomenon.”

I retold the story about Max’s Caulfield connection with death and sadness, and even if morgue stories would typically not fit with dinner, it didn’t come as revolting. Because her strengths didn’t come from obscurity but science, observation and resilience.

“She totally nailed it. None of us is a match to her, I’m telling you.” I concluded.

“I’m glad you became friends eventually.” Steph took my empty tray and fetched me a diet coke and Griesmeelpudding. A hint of disturbance in her voice wasn’t missed. And frankly, I was kind of disturbed too.

“We are… we’re not friends. We’ve never talked. Well, once we did, but I rather erase that from my memory.” And there was also that once a week hi in the gym when she always gave an impression like it’s a tremendous challenge. Like she’s just forcing herself to be polite. Oh, and of course this last occurrence. She just started to follow me on Instagram. That I didn’t say though. Was it even real? A pure soul like Max Caulfield would never be interested in being friends with scum like me.

“She’s occupying your mind awfully a lot for someone who’s not even your friend.” Steph pointed.

“That’s not true.” I defended my position too eagerly.

“You mention what she did or said every time, Victoria. You like her, don’t you?” I sensed a precaution behind Steph’s words or inquiry perhaps.

“Don’t be silly. I like you.” I put down the diet coke and Griesmeelpudding and took her hand. 

“I like you, too. But we’re not exclusive. You can… I mean, if… if you want to, you can…” Her hand escaped my hold, and she gesticulated wildly, but it seemed not even she wasn't sure what was the message she planned to deliver. 

“Well, you can have your groupies S.G., but I’m not like that. I couldn’t be here with you and pursue someone else at the same time. If I liked someone, I’d tell you and unfortunately also cut the physical aspect of our--”

“You tried to seduce me two months ago, remember? Is this an impression that I gave you? That I’m sleeping around?” 

Her gaze was intense. I would never see her as someone who sleeps around. Yet, she had had wild sex with a girl she barely knew (me) two weeks ago, and now she was talking about how non-committal we were. Which was the fact, I had agreed to these terms as much as she had. But it wasn’t me who waited for her in front of school like a committed girlfriend. Or gave her a romantic kiss. And it kind of made me like the idea of not just fucking occasionally but also more relationship based benefits. Which was insane, because Steph might still care about Taylor, Taylor might not be as straight as she was trying to convince herself and me, I was a total fuck-up, who always sought for love in the wrong places. “No, of course not, quite the opposite. I think you’re a keeper.” I spoke my mind. “But it’s you who brought the _non-exclusiveness_ up.”

“Yes, yes. I just wanted to make sure it's okay if you desire to ask this Max out or maybe start something serious with her. Or anyone. I would not hold it against you. Because obviously, we can’t… we can not...”

“Oh, Jesus H. Christ, Steph.” I jumped on my feet. Needed to do some walking to process this. Did I really fail to notice I was still more than infatuated with Max Caulfield? Maybe Steph was just kind of testing me. Clumsily. And trying to suggest she wasn’t entirely against the idea of being exclusive.

“I’m sorry, Vic.” She stood up too but hesitated to approach me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Max Caulfield is none of my business. I shouldn’t--”

I touched her forearm gently and pulled her closer. “I do not desire to ask Max Caulfield out, and heavens forbid starting something serious with her,” I swore hoping it was true.

Max Caulfield was a moot point. She wanted nothing to do with me. I would totally shoot myself in the foot if I allowed the possibility of falling for her. I caught a hint of relief in Steph’s eyes, and it almost made me stop, but I knew I needed to say it all. “Or anyone. I totally suck at love. I had a crush on my best friend for the most part of early adolescence. And now I’m sleeping with her crush. As a freshman at high school, I started a secret relationship with a girl of Russian descent. Her family was heavily religious, and she was so deep in the closet I was afraid to tell Taylor about it. That relationship was slowly ruining me for almost two years. And then I broke up with her at the beginning of the junior year because I couldn’t take it anymore. She held it against me and accused me of being a coward who runs away when things aren’t going smooth.”

“It was her, who was the coward!” Steph interrupted, but I needed to say it all.

“Maybe but I wasn’t any better. I came up with a brilliant idea to harass Kate Marsh. Just to prove this ex-girlfriend of mine that the whole religion bullshit sucks. I bullied Kate Marsh to the point she slit her wrists. Oh, and remember that married woman? Anna, wife of Mark Jefferson. I should have run away when I figured she was married, but no. Why not get yourself into a much bigger mess, Victoria? She claimed she loved me, and I believed her. What an idiot I was. Am. That’s me. I’m the worst. Totally fucked up in this matter, so I hope I will never ever date anybody, again or desire to have anything serious. Because it’s always been a disaster.”

Steph looked down. I thought she intended to free her forearm but what she really did was that she captured my hand. Then our eyes met again.

“So that’s why you posted the video? And was mean to the Kate girl. You wanted revenge on your ex-girlfriend and couldn’t have it. Instead, you chose a substitute?”

“I was a fucking mess back then. Heartbroken. Teen with raging hormones. Seeking the approval of someone who didn’t give a shit. And I can’t even tell you the name of the girl because she's a famous tennis player now, still so deep in the closet as those years ago.” I sighed and blinked a couple of times to hold the tears. “I was 16. Which is no excuse of course but I would never imagine some stupid video and rude remarks could end in such disaster. I found her pathetic, you know. Kate Marsh. Even more pathetic than my ex. This immaculate religious image she represented and then she got drunk and enjoyed herself greatly at the party snogging with boys. Why she even fucking went to that party? Fuck. I didn’t even record the video. Just post it online. For fun. It was idiotic of me. I didn’t see the whole picture. The possibility she could be oppressed by her religious family. I thought she was a farce. Faking to be this perfect daughter unable to stand up for herself and fight. I should not post it but fuck, what kind of webpage allows such video to be online. The police should control this, they should find those and erase them in a second. You know it was there for two weeks, and if I didn’t take it down, it might still be there.” I heard a sob escaping my mouth.

“That’s your reason for being here? I mean, at the Academy.” She asked softly

“That’s why. Mostly. I had a lot to redeem for.” I nodded and couldn’t look at her anymore. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to have another meltdown.”

She raised my chin and kissed me softly. “I kind of pushed you.” She did indeed

My hands ran up her arms to the sides of her face, and I rested my forehead on hers and… just let myself relish the closeness. The warmness. We stayed like that for the moment. “I kind of let you. To push. Me. Maybe I-- Maybe, I’m not completely against the idea of opening up a bit.”

She pressed our lips together again. “Let’s leave it. It’s in the past. Unless you want to add more.” She said into the kiss.

“No, I don’t.” I definitely should leave Kate Marsh in the past. Leave the past in the past. But there was a matter of present, that wasn’t going to go away. “ Well, maybe,” I added.

“Go on.”

“It’s not about Kate, though. It’s about Max Caulfield.”

“I’m listening.”

I created a bit of a distance between us. It was kinda ridiculous I was going to talk with Steph about Max. I moved my palms from her cheeks to her shoulders, considering what to say or what to believe. “On the first week, she…Max… well, she didn’t give an impression she fit. One tensed situation triggered me, and I yelled at her and blamed her for being Kate 2.0 version. Sort of. I was pissed that such a delicate, fragile soul decided to study this extremely difficult program. I saw her spirit broken by some bitch like me in my 16, and it made me nuts. But now I see I was wrong about her. She’s nothing like Kate Marsh. She’s strong, Steph. Something terrible happened to her, far more terrible than a video of her snogging with boys online. Yet, she’s made it. She’s not weak at all. There is a beast in her. The beast that can do 37 burpees in a minute.” I remember that scene from the gym that left me speechless and shuddered, without realising it. “I admire her, and yes she’s probably occupying my mind more than my other classmates. But it appears that because of that hysterical outburst she’s not my fan. And I guess I unconsciously still regret I lost a chance to be more acquainted with her. That’s all.” Or so I thought before the Instagram request. But that I kept to myself. I still couldn’t make sense of it anyway.

“What about this.” Steph brought us closer again. “We’ve both been burnt. So, we are not going to seriously romantically fall in love. Still, we are from now to the point we will both decide otherwise. Both,“ she emphasised, “we are exclusive friends with all benefits, occasionally having great sex.”

“Doesn’t sound bad, but I don’t want to keep you from…” Well, no matter how sensational was the feeling of the tingling on my lips every time she kissed me, I still was just a rebound girl. 

“From what?”

“I don’t know. From meeting someone new.” I shrugged “Or find the spark again with someone from before.” And Steph… Steph did what she was doing best tonight. Soothe me with a kiss.

“Right now, you’re only keeping me from having a great s--” I sealed her lips. And dragged her to bed.

* * *

When my eyes opened, it was nothing but darkness. And cold sweat covering my whole body. It took some time to realise where I was. And with who. Fortunately, my little nightmare didn’t wake Steph up. She was sleeping peacefully, lying on my chest.

On the contrary, I was nowhere close to being at peace. The images of Kate Marsh’s frail body in the pool of blood had taken root in my brain. I remembered the times when I had been dreaming about her every night and waking up messed-up all in tears. It had gotten better in time, but as you can imagine, it never was a pleasant occurrence. There was no way I could go back to sleep. And it was impossible to suppress the images with nothing but lying in bed. I cautiously reached for the phone. It was five in the morning. I set the brightness to minimum. Steph didn’t flinch still deep in the dreamland. 

In need of a distraction, I used massive firepower. I wrote the name of the worst tabloid web page into the browser and wasn’t disappointed. I didn’t read the articles, only the titles. Celebrity A lost twenty kilos. Celebrity B gained fifteen. Celebrity C gets married. Celebrity D got a divorce. I chuckled. Who in the hell is interested in these stuff? Who were those people in the titles? I clicked on one article just for a whim. It was about how the most famous Dutch influencer Vera Dijkmans reached 2 million followers. I opened the link with her Insta page but had to close it immediately. There was nothing in there except for vulgar photos of her ass. Well, maybe some even more vulgar pictures of other parts of her body, that I would expose only to my significant other, not to the whole world.

Sweet mother of Jesus when Instagram became a soft porn promoter, I wondered and switched from tabloids to more serious web journals. I needed to get that repulsive brassy ass out of my head if I didn’t desire to replace one nightmare with another. In the culture section of the Telegraaf, I found an interesting article. The interview with young actress Rachel Amber. The name didn’t ring any bell, but I recognised her as Max Caulfield’s companion from that strange day that had happened almost two months ago. An unexpected urge to find out if they were an item followed my next moves. Nothing in the interview suggested Rachel Amber was seeing anyone. Although, according to the interview, she preferred her private life to stay private. 

Her Instagram page was more colourful, but still a bit dull compared to other Instagram indulgence-ers. There was no sign of significant other, no pics with Max. Just group photos from the set of her TV shows, or some still lifes. But it didn’t mean anything. They could be a low-key romance. They had seemed very much into each other when I had seen them back then. And I could imagine Max Caulfield wasn’t person who would enjoy publicity.

My curiosity got the best of me, and I dared to check Max’s profile as well. It was private. Of course, it was. Had she not expressed a desire to follow me earlier, I would probably have dropped it right there. Albeit she had done, and I pressed the follow button, as well. I stared at the screen evaluating the consequences of this decision. And then the message she accepted my request popped up. She just confirmed my request. At 5:35 in the morning. 

A strange feeling, I neither could describe nor understand overflew me and I put the phone down in haste. Weirdly from all of my fidgeting, this was the move that brought Steph to the land of awakened. She just pulled me down and kissed me softly. “Do we have to get out of the bed, already?” She murmured.

“No. Not, yet.”

“Come snuggle a bit then,” she said and did as she proposed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, working on this chapter wasn’t a piece of cake. Even when I planned Victoria’s involvement with Steph as a plot device from the very beginning, at some point, I was considering dismissing this part of the story and replaced it with another subplot where Victoria didn’t get involved with anyone. Nevertheless, as you can see, I decided against it and stuck with the original idea.
> 
> The idea that the irrational decision as following a wrong choice (despite every sign around screams it is the wrong choice) could sometimes determine the behaviour of the most rational people even. Especially in matters of attraction.
> 
> It applies for all three girls, involved (Steph, Taylor and Victoria). However, the story protagonist is Victoria, so we only see into her head. She made wrong decisions before, and now she believes, she would be able to step back if there was any risk to choose poorly. But what she really is doing is not making any decision at all, just going with a flow, taking an easy fix. And in the meantime, she (and another two participants) are getting lost in the maze of lies they are telling themselves.
> 
> When we are thinking about our past mistakes retrospectively, we usually can see everything that we had done wrong. Lot of the times even recognize the way how it could be avoided. In a sense I believe unconsciously we knew all along, but for whatever reasons couldn’t admit it back then. That’s what I was trying to do with Victoria in this chapter. Describe the situation when denial is winning over rationality. Well, just in a case I failed to deliver this message I’m explaining it here in the notes. :-)
> 
> But don’t worry, I’m not planning to push this house of cards for much longer, and you surely are aware of what’s gonna happen after it falls down.
> 
> And you know what? You’ve been great readers. Here’s a little reward, the sneak and peek from chapter 17, 😉.
> 
> _I couldn’t form my ideas into the proper words, so I shifted and laid on my back, never breaking the touch. We stayed like this for a moment. Or an eternity. And I would keep going if possible. Because it was like heaven._
> 
> _“What are you thinking?” Victoria stroked the back of my hand softly._
> 
> _Her. I was thinking about her. About how probably everything that I had thought about her initially wasn’t true. Her love for dicks, her arrogance, her unawareness of me. Could I say it without revealing I was weirdly obsessed with her from Day 1? Almost every interaction from those few we shared throughout the year, nearly every single one had nudged me the right way. Made me a person who I was now. The best of our class. I yearned to know so much about her. “Why did you decide to apply for this program?” And I hoped this question was a safe bet for the beginning without the risk to impose._
> 
> _This time it was her who took her time “I look hot in uniform.” She turned to me, and repeated her answer from Day 1, lying on her side. What a coward, I thought. A sexy coward._
> 
> _“You look hot in everything.” I chuckled and did the same, so we faced again. “You would look hot in a garbage collector outfit, yet you didn’t become a garbage collector.”_
> 
> _“You think I’m hot? Are you flirting with me, Max Caulfield?”_
> 
> _“N-no. Of course not.” Of course, I was._


	14. Lovely Weather for Ducks

**Max Caulfield**

**Wednesday, January 15, Day 121**

It was late afternoon. The Academy Library was almost empty. Or that’s what I had seen three hours ago when I had arrived. Now I had no clue. Because I sat at a secluded corner, logged into the school computer, watching funny videos of cats, and listening to Daughter’s _Burn it down_ for the zillionth time. 

Trust me, I neither had come to the library to watch videos of cats nor to listen to depressing songs. My initial intention had been to check old forensic journals and to study some cold cases that had been actually reopened and solved. My brain was too wrecked for that, though. Or anything except watching cats doing stupid shits. Winter break and two weeks with my overprotective mum had utterly ruined me. Her suffocating care had made me cut my stay in Arcadia and come back to Hauge a week sooner than necessary. Not to mention my departure had been accompanied by the dramatic fight and emotional blackmail. 

I had found out that the only reason mum hadn’t interfered with my decision to study at the Academy was that she believed I’ll come back. Rather sooner than later. That I’ll give up and move back to be close to them. She still thought I was weak and delicate and unable to stand up for myself. She was convinced Eliot is coming for me, and without them around I would be defenceless. Oh, I wished that murderer would try. I wished he crawled out of his wormhole and faced me. I would bring him down in no time. The two low-lives destroyed in December could tell the tale.

Despite all skills and strength, I had been building since September, my confidence had been shattered by mum’s constant effort to convince me the police work is not for me. Dad hadn’t help much to dampen her hysteria, but at least he had sent me a text after I had left. He had written I don’t need to worry about expenses and he has my back. The hint of support was definitely something even when I didn’t care much about finances. A week before he had died Grandpa Joe had taken me to the bank and informed me he’d created an account for me. Just in case. I hadn’t understood what he had meant. Then he had died, and I had forgotten. When I had bumped into the documents in my drawer and checked the account after a couple of months, I’d got it. He had left me enough money in there to pull me through any college. I hadn’t planned to use it unless absolutely necessary but maybe the time had come.

Watching the fat cat freaking out about cucumber, I came to a conclusion there were enough cats for today. Nevertheless, going back to dorms and brood about if I really am a porcelain doll who needs mama’s protection didn’t seem appealing, either. Maybe I could call Nyssa. Nah. Sex was the last thing on my mind. Hanging out with Rachel was an option, too. I’d hoped to meet her when I’d come back on Monday, but she had gotten a last-minute offer to replace a contestant who was allergic and star in a celebrity cooking reality show. She said she could refuse, but I wouldn’t want that. The rumour had it her character in General Hospital was in danger to be written off. The main lead and supposed heart of the show felt threatened by her youth and beauty. And acting skills. So if it was real, the cooking show could gain Rachel some more opportunities to shine in different areas. 

I checked the time in the lower right corner of the computer screen. 16:49. Rachel was probably still on the set. I closed the window with cats and opened another one with Instagram. I didn’t even bother to browse the new posts. I just wrote Victoria’s name into the search bar. To my disappointment, she didn’t add anything interesting recently. Only one picture of the sports car driver, who had been identified as her older brother by Rachel. So on January 2nd Victoria posted his picture lifting the Eredivisie title from last season. I didn’t follow men's football much, especially not freaking Ajax, so that’s why I didn’t recognise him as Ajax AFC captain and a top striker.

Under the pic, Victoria attached a heartfelt statement. It was about how current Ajax management sucked. She wrote that instead of dick-measuring (yeah she used this exact formulation) they should focus on hiring competent coaches and listen to the players who gave everything to the club. I did some research. Jamie Alistair, Victoria’s brother (born as James Alistair Chase but only using a short version) was sent to loan to China for the rest of the season. So the new Portuguese coach José could bring one of his favourites from Manchester united. Even as a predominantly women’s football fan, I knew coach José. He was super arrogant. And arrogant. And frankly, that’s the only thing you needed to know about him. My enthusiasm to find out more about Jamie Alistair as a small comfort when I couldn’t learn more about his sister Victoria was cut brutally. By the lightning. 

“Fuck.” I jumped from my seat and turned to the window. At the same time the headphones, unluckily, hooked to the edge of the desk, was ripped from the phone jack. And also from my ears. “Fuck.” It was raining outside. It was fucking storm raging in there. 

“Calm down, just calm down,” I muttered. Grey canvas weren't suitable shoes for this occasion, but I still had loud music at my disposal. That meant I will not hear that ugly sound of drenched shoes touching the soaked ground. And of course, I had sour candies, too. I will be okay. I reached for my pocket. Empty. No prob, they must be in the bag. They weren’t. After a thorough search, when I only found empty wraps, I wasn’t as calm as I’d like to be.

“Easy, Max, you can’t do this.” The car was not far away from the entrance, and I still had some tricks up my sleeve. I packed my things and focused on proper breathing. The armband on my hand buzzed when I left the seat, which meant I was unlogged from the computer. Or maybe that my heart rate was too fast. The sound of the rain behind the windows made me dizzy, but I didn’t plan to freak out. I was better than this. I must be. I browsed the phone for the most dynamic loudest music and plugged the headphones in. They didn’t work. I refused to believe that and tried to plug and unplug it a couple of times when roaming the halls of Academy. But when I reached the entrance hall, I had to admit the truth. The jack must have been damaged, when my rushed jump ripped it from the plug. 

Maybe I should wait. _Wait for what Max, even if it stops raining the pools of water will not disappear. You cannot sleep here._ I couldn’t believe I allowed this to happen. I had been so distracted by the whole mum thing that I had got sloppy. I hadn’t checked the forecast, I hadn’t brought waterproof boots, and I hadn’t replenished the sour candies stock. Should I call Dad or Rachel? _No, no, no._ If I did, I’d only prove mum was right, and I wasn’t ready for this. I packed the headphones and stared at the screen. It was a picture of Rachel and me there. She would understand. She wouldn’t think I’m weak or mental or in need of a shrink. But she was working. I browsed the contact list and found her name but decided against calling, eventually. 

Honestly, I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. It must, the rain is a usual occurrence in most areas on the planet I’m living on. It was inevitable also that I will encounter this occurrence, all by myself for the first time. Without dad or mum around. Or Rachel and Grandpa Joe. Or anyone who knew how screwed up I really was. What I didn’t expect is that when it happens, I’ll be out of sour candies and my headphones will be broken. _Damn it, Max! Damn it!_ I peeked to the doorway. There were approximately 200 meters between the car and the place where outside stairs that were under the roof touched the pavement. 200 meters long pool of water. I looked down at my grey canvas. Water will permeate them in a second.

“Stop it, Max. You have to stop it!” I tried. 200 meters. If I run, it’ll take 30 seconds, and I’ll be in the car. I’ll barely realise there is any water soaking into my shoes. Right. Right? I wanted to believe. I wanted to take a step forward, but the non-existent smell of the chemistry lab touched my nostrils.

“No, no, no, no. I’m not in the lab. This is not real.” I shook my head and took a couple of deep breaths. And opened my eyes wide. The outlines of the Academy entrance hall gave me hope. I was on the good track to handle this attack even without sour candies when the entrance door opened and a man tainted with water entered. I heard the sound of a drenched shoe meeting with the floor, it squeezed and forced an amount of water from it. My eyes closed. The squishing tone messed with my brain. I looked around the old obscure school lab, and the bile in my throat rose. 

_“I think—I think she’s dead.”_

Chloe Price was lying on the floor of the Chemistry lab in the pool of water and blood. Gutted. It was impossible to count the cuts in her torso. There were so many of them. She lied on her back, and her stomach was ripped open. The wound on the side of her neck was also particularly nasty. She definitely was dead. And all sinks in the lab were forcefully stuffed. The water was overflowing the rims, and it was everywhere. The other person standing above Chloe was very much alive.

_“I found her like this. I saw the water and found her like this. I tried to help, but she’s dead.”_

He was lying. His eyes didn’t match the words coming from his mouth. Eliot Hampden was a freak. He disapproved of Chloe’s involvement with Rachel. And now she was dead. I saw him reaching for the broken graduated cylinder. The sharp edges of shattered glass no longer stained with blood had ended Chloe’s life a moment before. He tried to cover his act and discard all possible evidence with the flow of water. But he couldn’t discard me. Eliot had just one option left. To silence me. There were merely a three meters distance and pool of water and blood between life and death. My right hand flew up and hit the fire alarm box. The box crashed, my bones crushed, but the intense, harsh sound filled the room and disrupted him. He hovered, and the cylinder slipped out of his hand and hit the floor. Should I run? He’ll catch me in no time. He was stronger, taller, quicker. How long until firefighters arrive?

 _“I think it was the janitor. I saw him with her earlier.”_ I could sense the gears in his head was grinding. Did he abandon his intention to get rid of an unwanted witness, or was he trying to distract me with his lame fake story? The door behind me opened.

 _“Lovely weather for ducks.”_ Wait. This is not what’s supposed to happen. That’s not what Fernando was supposed to say when he appeared in the lab, searching for what caused the fire alarm. And that voice didn’t belong to him.

 _“She’s dead. Chloe’s death. She’s been murdered.”_ I said and felt something’s breaching my numbness. The pain. I looked at my hand that hit the fire alarm, and it was a gory mangled mess. Pieces of shattered glass stayed stuck in the wound on the side of my palm. The agonising pain stroke when I tried to close the fist.

 _“Max, where are you? Where are we?”_ Slow, tentative words reached my ears.

What? What kind of question was it? _“In the lab. Chemistry lab, Chloe’s death on the floor, can’t you see?”_

 _“We are not in the lab, Max.”_ That strange voice didn’t belong here, but I found it familiar, soft, and soothing. No panic, no harshness. _“You know you can come back to me. Tell me where we are.”_

I scrunch my toes up in my soaked shoes wishing I’ll be anywhere but here. In this horrendous school chemistry lab, standing in the pool of water corrupted by blood of the body lying in front of me. My fingers straighten inside the grey canvas. Dry. The shoe didn’t make that squishy sound. They were dry. No water. _Come on, Max, focus. Focus!_ I blinked a couple of times and realised the floor wasn’t covered with thick grey linoleum. It was marble. Sand yellow marble.

“U—Uni. I’m at uni.”

“Yes, yes, you are. You’re safe. You’re safe, Max. Everything’s alright.”

“That lab has always been so grim,” I muttered. My shoes were dry, and the floor was marble, but that broody smell of the high school lab lingered.

“Come, let’s sit there on the bench” The bodiless voice instructed me. And materialise a bit. A thorough arm encircled my waist. My brain gave the order for my feet to move, but it got lost somewhere on the way.

“Okay, maybe we can sit right here.” The voice changed the plan and let me slide down along the wall. And then the warmness embraced me. I would expect cold considering the marble, but it was warmness that touched me. And the scent of pomegranate. No more lab stench. Good. That was definitely a good thing. I rested my head on my knees very focused on my shoes that weren't stained by bloody water and the floor.

“No wetness, no linoleum,” I repeated to myself and dug deeper into the pink peacoat. Peacoat, yeah. That’s what brought the warmness. But I didn’t own any peacoat. Whatever. No water and yellow marble were more important than how the peacoat happened to be wrapped around me.

“So you're a fan of Oranjes?” The voice tried to engage me in conversation. I just nodded, staring at my shoes. Even when football was my soft spot and the passion, I shared with Grandpa Joe, speaking would be too difficult. All my strength was channelled to focus. Yellow marble, not grey linoleum. “So who’s your favourite player? Virgil van Dijk? Georginio Wijnaldum? Or Jamie Alistair perhaps?”

“None of those.” I sneered. “Sari Van Veenendaal, Desiree Van Lunteren, Anouk Dekker, “I started to recite the starting eleven of Women’s Euro 2017 finals. “Danielle Van de Donk, Lieke Martens, Vivianne Miedema.” The voice finished with me and added. “Yeah, most of the men could definitely learn something about dedication to football and the national team from these girls.”

Now the touch of warmness also came from inside not only from the peacoat. The memory of that winning game at EURO finals was one of my dearests.

“Did you see the game? The first half was a close call, wasn’t it?” The voice prompted me to continue.

“I was there, in the stadium.” And also helped me to get back there again. Before I knew it, I was engaged in retelling the most famous story in the history of Women’s football in the Netherlands. About how it could be a completely different game if Pernille Harder would score from the free-kick at the end of the first half. Neither us nor Danes had a strong bench like Germany, England or France. So there was no player who could be called in the second half, to revive the exhausted teammates. But when the Danish captain failed, ours succeeded. Sherida Spitse’s incredible free kick in the 51st minute was the first nail into Denmark’s coffin. And then no longer than five minutes before regular time expired, when Harder decided to pass to Nadia Nadim who missed, instead of shooting, I was almost sure the trophy was going to be ours. Not even Sanne Troelsgaard missing by an inch after the great corner didn’t shatter my confidence in victory. 

“And then, when Vivianne Miedema was inside the box in the last minute, I knew she’s going to score. The whole stadium knew we’re going to be European champions.”

“That’s a great story, Max. Touching. I bet that’s when you fell in love with that player. Lucy, Lieke or such... But now I have something even better.” 

“Huh?” That was not a voice that has been with me the whole time, or was it? This one I knew more than well and would recognise it anywhere, anytime. For the first time since the PTSD mayhem had started, I looked up, and the clear images of the Academy entrance hall and Rachel brought a smile to my lips. “Sour candies.” She fetched me one, and I put it into my mouth with reverence. Even when I wasn’t on the brink of a panic attack anymore, I was still shaken. Was it her who was here with me? Did I manage to call her? 

“Here, change the shoes and put some music on.” She opened the sports bag and unpacked those things I had terribly missed. An hour ago? Or two? “We’ll get to your car, and I'll drive you back to dorms.” Her reassuring words were another step to get out of this mess.

* * *

I stirred soaking in the warmness of the sheets and the body next to me. I didn’t remember the last time when I felt so rested. 

“Tell me we didn’t party hard and had terrible drunk sex?” I peeked at Rachel, who was fully clothed reading Fahrenheit 451. Honestly, the hangover wasn’t nowhere around my body, but my brain felt oddly empty. 

“Hey, super Max.” She put the book down and kissed my forehead. “I thought you’re not going to wake up until some princess charming shows up. Two Stilnoxes did the job.” Stilnox? I scrunched my nose. So, I had been in need of a sleeping pill yesterday. I rolled over and swung my legs off the bed.

“I need to pee.” I stood up and strolled across the room clumsily. Quick gaze outside the window revealed it could be late afternoon. It was almost dark outside. I slipped to the bathroom, still unable to recover my last pre-sleep memory. It was just this peculiar mist and pink peacoat that kept me safe and warm. When I was done with morning hygiene, well, in this case, late afternoon hygiene, I remembered the rain and the malfunctioning headphones' jack. I must have a PTSD episode. Back in the room, I spotted Rachel’s coat draped on the back of the chair.

“How long did I sleep?” I asked, running my fingers along the hem of the coat that wasn’t pink.

“20 hours. How do you feel?” She pulled me back to bed. 20 hours. I did some calculations, recollected some memories. I didn’t feel as great as right after waking up but considering what happened, the outcome was a victory.

“Thank you, Rach, for pulling me through.” I reached for her hand. If it wasn’t for her, who knew where I’d be now. “It’s a miracle you showed up. If mum would have figured out, she dragged me back to Arcadia. And locked me in my room, forever to keep me safe.”

She smiled and tugged a stray of hair behind my ear. “I didn’t pull you through, Super Max and there's definitely no higher power involved. Just your classmate, Victoria.”

Victoria Chase. The pink peacoat, the scent of pomegranate, the voice that didn’t belong but still felt familiar. But it couldn’t be true, could it? I shook my head.

“She texted me from your phone. If you don’t believe me, see for yourself.”

Rachel must see the denial in my eyes because she reached for my phone on the nightstand and fetched it to me. The conversation thread from yesterday confirmed she was telling the truth.

_ Max _

_Hi, it’s not Max but Victoria, Max’s classmate._

_I hope I chose the right person, but you seemed close when I saw you together._

_I believe Max is going through a PTSD situation, maybe if you could come, it’ll help._

_ Rachel _

_On my way._

_ Max _

_Academy entrance hall. I’ll be with her till u arrive._

“That’s impossible. She doesn’t know who I am, how could she know you’re… we’re...” I still couldn’t understand how Victoria Chase was my saviour. Although, deep down, I knew. 

“Well, aren’t you guys detectives or something? She saw us together, and maybe she's a fan of Universal hospital, so she knew who I was.” Rachel took the phone and put it back on the nightstand. “Chill, Max.” She rubbed my back. “You’re okay, and that’s the only thing that matters.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I gave her a weak smile.

“I have one bad news, though.” Rachel became solemn, and I was immediately attacked by a different kind of panic.

“Mum knows!?”

“No. No!” She cooled me with laughter. “If Vanessa knew, you’d be back in Arcadia already, don’t you think?”

That was, without a doubt. “What’s this bad news, then?” I asked.

“Your suspicion was right, and I’m pretty sure Victoria and that girl we saw her with are very much together.” I shouldn't be surprised. Or affected. Definitely shouldn’t feel like I’ve just lost something. Yet, the heavy metal ball just emerged in my tummy. I wanted to ask so many things, but there was not enough strength within me to do so. Instead, Rachel continued. “I meet them in the morning. I requested Victoria’s number when we briefly met yesterday, and today I texted her and asked where I should deliver her pink peacoat. Oh, girl, you were totally clung to it until you fall asleep. Anyway, the girlfriend lives here in the dorms, fourth floor. And Victoria probably spent the night because that was her location at 8am at the time of our conversation.”

Rachel explained she had paid a visit, and Victoria had inquired about my well-being and praised my strength to overcome the difficult situation. Rachel also gushed about how very domestic and lovely they looked together with a girl and regretted Victoria wasn’t single because she seemed like perfect girlfriend material. For me, she didn’t forget to add. I couldn’t describe the chaos that rose in me and tried to do everything in my power to tame it.

“It’s not like I had a chance with her or could take that chance, so that’s not bad news she’s with someone. Just a fact.” I assured Rachel thinking about the lost opportunity that actually wasn’t lost because it never had been on the table in the first place, hadn’t it? That PTSD shit only confirmed I wasn't a girlfriend material, was I? But Victoria had stayed with me the whole time. She even commended my strength, according to Rachel. She must know more about me than my name. She had paid attention to what had been going on with me the whole time, after all. _Oh, whatever._ At the end of the day, none of it mattered. Victoria was taken. _But wait._ It didn’t mean I couldn’t be her friend, though, did it? But could I be her friend without wanting to be more than that? _Oh, what a mess, you need to drop it, Max! The solution will come when it comes._ Obviously not now. “Just a fact,” I reiterated.

“If you say so.” Rachel finally and ultimately let Victoria go and jumped from the bed. “But there is also good news.” She chirped and opened my little fridge. “I found something strongly beneficial for you on the fourth floor.”

“What is that?”

“The vending machine with your favourite grapefruit soda right next to room No. 404.” She tossed me a can. “Here, enjoy.”

“Oh, my this is heaven.” I took a large gulp of the soda that kicked all my troubles out of the window. For now.

**Victoria Chase**

**Thursday, January 16, Day 122**

I was sitting at Steph’s bed, staring at the screen of my phone. Should I write Rachel Amber, Max Caulfield’s (presumable) girlfriend and ask again how Max was doing? It was probably unnecessary. She had shown up this morning to bring my peacoat back and reassured me everything's fine.

This Rachel seemed like a great girl. And I ordered myself for a dozen times to shake off the ambivalent feeling her presence had left in me. It was amazing Max had someone like her by her side. Now it was clear to me she had witnessed a murder. Or find a victim of the murder. Had she also fought for a life? Fought an attacker? It couldn’t be counted off. There was this scar on the side of her hand. And it was definitely connected because she had been nursing that hand yesterday like it was terribly injured. One unquestionably couldn’t erase something like that from their head. It had happened to my dad thirty years ago and it’d never really gone away. He’d only let the mother in. Only she knew what really had happened. They both had flaws as much as strengths, but being together made them invincible, erased all weaknesses and multiplied all assets. I should be happy it was the case for Max and Rachel, too. I could never fit into the role, could I? _But hadn’t you fit into that role just perfect, yesterday?_ The small voice somewhere inside my head spoke. Should I listen to it?

I replayed the peculiar afternoon in my head, once again. The second semester was supposed to start in a week, yet I had decided to cut my winter break short and come back to Hauge. Frankly, I had been a bit bored after two weeks in Maastricht with parents. And I had also missed Steph. Originally, I was supposed to ski with Jamie in Switzerland, right now. We’d had a lot to catch up. But on the January first he had been sent on loan to China by new Ajax coach José. Oh, how much I hated that José retard. So, yesterday I had packed my stuff, kissed my parents goodbye and travelled back to Hauge. I hadn’t even told Steph. I had hoped to surprise her.

The thing was she’d already had plans, so maybe I should call first. Steph had been cool about it, though and had said she could cancel or I could join because it had been with Taylor. Yeah, they were on speaking terms again, I’d say friends. They had reconciled shortly before Xmas. Thanks to a small nudge from my side. And I was beyond happy because their friendship was so lively and cute, and I super cared about them both. So, it was great it didn’t have to be awkward anymore to mention Taylor in front Steph or talk about Steph in front of Taylor.

Yesterday they had intended to attend some weird design show. I loved fashion and art, but the design wasn’t my field at all. I would be jaded in there as fuck. Although I hadn’t wanted Steph to cancel, because Taylor and Taylor had broken up on New year’s Eve (the reason behind it remained uncovered yet) and Taylor, my Taylor could definitely use a distraction. I had convinced myself letting them attend the show was the best course of action. It had meant I had had nothing else to do than visit the Academy library and work on my papers for professor Heywood’s class. Which I had been kept postponing, forever. I had regretted the decision the moment I had entered the almost empty library. Seeing Max Caulfield sitting in the secluded corner had given me willies. Yeah, I had been meeting her daily, before. Yet, the promise of chit-chat had taken me by surprise. I had felt like I hadn’t been ready to have a conversation with her with no one else around. Which was insane, it would be just a stupid polite small talk. Anyway, I had cajoled myself than maybe she wouldn’t even show a desire to interact with me.

Before I had taken a seat and could convert my focus to the papers for Professor Heywood’s class, a strange thing had happened. The thunder had got Max totally out of balance. I had made a firm resolution to not intervene. It wouldn’t be desired, I had been sure. That resolution had gone to shit in no time. I couldn’t stop myself from following her when it had appeared, her distress hadn’t been about to go away. It had been a pure instinct, doing so. A natural move. When I had caught up with her in the hallway, it had been clear the situation was dire. She hadn’t been there with me, but somewhere in the past. In the moment when the girl named Chloe Price had been murdered.

I had recognised the PTSD episode in no time. It had been absolutely necessary for Max to have someone she could trust by her side. And only one such person had come to my mind, that actress Rachel Amber. The wallpaper of Max’s phone, the picture of two of them, had only confirmed my theory had been right. I had waited with Max until she had shown up. To be honest, never before had I felt so driven and fulfilled at the same time about some action I had taken. Even when I hadn’t done much. Just had sat there with her listening, having my arm around her waist. Yet, I knew it was the memory I yearned to keep forever. The memory of how Max leant on me. But should I be allowed to have it? Max won’t remember any of it much likely. She would make it without me, anyway. She would manage to call Rachel, perhaps, wouldn’t she? Besides I was with Steph, now, sort of. And Max was with Rachel. And most importantly, to this point, she had shown no intention to let anyone new into her mysterious world, into the life that was strange for sure. Yet, immensely alluring to me.

“What about Love Island? Whatcha think? Could be fun?” Steph joined me sitting on her bed, and it probably wasn’t her first suggestion. She had been trying to distract me the whole day. We had been in Kunstmuseum and then she had taken me to Gallery Helder, but I saw I was a crappy companion.

“Sorry, babe. I suck today. It seems to see a person going through the PTSD is not something that can be tossed away in no time. You deserve a better company. I should go home. And you maybe call Taylor. You two can enjoy the rest of the day. Talk about that design show you attended yesterday. Or some Fika perhaps.” I suggested.

“You know it’s Fika only when you’re in Sweden.” Steph teased using Taylor’s words

“Well, do some almost Fika, then.” I winked and kissed her softly. “Call Taylor. You know she’s a bit down since that break-up with Taylor. If you won’t, I swear I’ll send her your way once I’m home.” I stood up, but she pulled me back.

“I already called her. Guilty as charged.” She raised her hands and had an expression of real guilt. “But not because of our Fika, because of yours.” I bit my lips in confusion. What did that mean? Knock on the door brought me closer to the answer.

“She knows you forever. I tried hard and couldn’t cheer you up, but I’m sure she can. Steph hopped on her feet and let the visitor in.

“Have I just stepped into the lake of sorrow?” Taylor checked her feet as if she encountered a nasty puddle. “Oh, come on, hun, we need to swim out of it and have some great coffee and pastry.” She sauntered my way and offered me her hand. My eyes flickered between her and Steph and couldn’t suppress the smile coming to my face.

“Fine. But we call it Fika. And Steph will join too.” I demanded.

“No, no, no. You need a friend now. I would be third-wheeling.” Steph dismissed the offer. 

“Aren’t we all friends now? Whatcha think Tay?” I spoke to Taylor and then turned back to Steph “Besides, I proved myself really boring today. So, it would be only fair if my best friend had some backup companion in case, I’d just stare out of the window blankly.” 

“Fika party then. Come, girls!” Taylor waved her hand, and it was decided.

We went to Willow’s café and had a lot of great pastry. And coffee. I mostly sat in silence, enjoying their funny banter. They definitely did a fantastic job to keep my mind from thinking about Max. They even hatched the plan on how to make a surprise Valentine’s day dinner for me. Well, not a surprise anymore because they were plotting right in front of me. But it was settled that I deserved a perfect Valentine’s evening. Because, as Taylor pointed, every time I was into someone, they had wanted to keep me a secret which meant no usual forms of appreciation on Valentine's day. Fortunately, it wasn’t a case anymore. I must admit it sounded appealing. Having something epic for Valentine’s day. The only flaw I saw was it had to be rescheduled to February 15, because on the 14th dad was going to have his first photo exhibition opening.

Oh, how wrong I was. About so many things on so many levels.


	15. (Decon)fusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit content. Everything is not what it seems.

**Victoria Chase**

**Friday, February 14, Day 150**

“I love this, but I really need to go.” I pretended I was trying to escape Steph’s embrace and her naughty kisses. But I wasn’t really. Why would I?

“What would professor Jiwe do to you if you’ll come late? Or not show at all? Hundred push-ups?” Steph teased in between kisses. “Well no big, I’m sure this body will manage.” She slid her hands under my shirt, and I knew if I wouldn't catch a moment of clarity now, I will be doomed.

Professor Amaya Jiwe. Self-defence class. Right. That’s where I needed to go. Or supposed to. My body was adamant about only one need, though, and it was absolutely unnecessary to leave this room to fulfil this need. So I should move us from doors to bed. And transform the farewell to something more physical. The last part of sanity tried to intervene.

“I-I have to grab my training gear and change and--” And what? Nothing. It probably wasn’t important. Steph proved herself as an extraordinary tool for erasing everything from my mind. I was about to forget the world when she broke the kiss.

“You know, you could stash some of your fancy clothes and ugly Academy gear in here. There is plenty of space in the wardrobe, you wouldn’t need to go back to your place every morning. And we could have an additional hour to sleep perhaps. Or not to sleep.” She smiled. Frankly, the thought had crossed my mind before, but I hadn’t dared to suggest it. This thing between us was so unexpected and wonderful, yet totally simple. That’s why I hadn’t brought _stashing my stuff_ in Steph dorm room or inviting her for Father’s exhibitions that will be held tonight. Because it would be crossing the line. “Or you can keep doing the adrenaline run back to your apartment every morning. If such an adventure is what you like. Maybe that’s what you’re after. Making me come as quickly as possible.” She gave me a wicked smile and was about to revive the kiss. Weirdly, the thought of making her come faded away.

“Would you like to meet my parents?” I blurted. I realised, I very much liked the idea of introducing a girl to my parents, as my official girlfriend. Technically, I’d never done.

“Like, tonight?” Steph asked bewildered.

“Well, I meant some time soon-ish. For lunch or dinner. But if you want to go with me tonight, it’s cool.” Well, maybe it wasn’t the smoothest move, to bring her for such a big occasion without further notice but so what.

“I-I…” She was unable to find the words to react. So was I too eager? Was it too soon, to bring parents into this? Bring some of your stuff here didn't mean let's meet the parents.

“No need to decide right away.” I sighed.

“I’d love to meet them, Vic. But tonight is big. I don’t have a proper dress, and I don’t want to embarrass you. And I think I need more than 8 hours to prepare for meeting Wilhem Vincent Chase, the former state secretary for digital, culture, media and sport, and patron of arts, classy aristocrat Margaret. “ She admitted. And wavered? No, she didn’t.

“Alright, we’ll figure it out, later.” I kissed her forehead softly. “Now I really should go.” I spun and opened the dorm room door. But after one step, the sudden urge overwhelmed me. I turned back with a blank mind. Steph stared at me, speechless. I reached for her hand and pulled her to me. “I think I’m in love with you, Steph.” I surprised us both. She blushed but didn’t say anything. “See you tomorrow." So it was me who spoke eventually. She nodded, and before I left, she gave me one more kiss. Was I in love with her? Or just with an idea of being in a viable relationship? I didn’t see any difference between the first and the latter, at the moment. I didn’t see a lot of the things, actually. Definitely not the familiar face when walking down the hall. Due to the absolute excess of endorphins in my blood, I failed to recognise it was Max Caulfield. Or that she was chewing her lips nervously and the grip of the can of grape soda she held was so strong it deformed the tin. 

**Victoria Chase**

**Saturday, February 15, Day 151**

„So, about this girl, who would love my photo…“ Dad finally dared to open this topic. I knew he was gonna. He had offered to drive me back to Hauge instead of using public transport. Because the weather was dreary and the train was about to be delayed due to the engine issues. He had said. The delay would be ten minutes, max, and I was a master of using a wardrobe that looks outstanding and withstand any weather. But I agreed, even when aware of the risk his curiosity will not stay in check. Spending time with dad was always worthwhile.

„What about her?“

„Do you like her?“

“Papa, we talked about this yesterday.“

„No, we didn’t. You only told me she’s not your girlfriend.“

Yesterday exhibition had been wonderful. Photography had always been dad’s passion, the thing close to his heart that he had never had time to follow as much as he would like. Only after he had left the insane world of politics, he really gotten into it. And now a month before his 60th birthday, he was finally rewarded with his first real exhibition in PontArte Gallery. I had been so happy for him, but it was nothing compared to how delighted he had been. As a celebration, we had a couple of glasses of champagne, maybe too much for me. Mother had made sure there’s gonna be enough Dom Perignón for everyone at a fête.

The evening had been lovely and eventful, and when it had been almost over, we had been standing side by side with dad admiring his best photo. It could be around midnight. My whole body was buzzing slightly with a little bit of excess of alcohol in my system.

 _“So what do you think, cupcake?”_ Dad had asked.

 _“I think Max would love it, papa.”_ From all of the answers, this one had come out of my mouth.

 _“Your girlfriend?”_ He had rejoiced.

 _“No.”_ I had saddened.

 _“I see.”_ He had replied without the further discovery of what was going on inside his head.

Back in the presence, I looked at him driving us to Hauge through the chilly February afternoon. His eyes were focused on the road, but I knew he knew I was staring at him.

“If you didn’t tell her you like her, how can you know she doesn’t like you back?” My lack of verbal response obviously didn’t discourage him from seeking the answers I unfortunately didn’t have. And from seeing right through me, uncovering what I had refused to see. Could dad be right? But he didn’t know anything about Max. Besides I was with Steph now. I was in love with her, wasn’t I? She was just preparing a perfect Valentine dinner for me. Steph and I made much more sense than Max and I. _Then why you thought of Max, yesterday, why you said her name?_ Well, it was simple, because Max was a photographer, not Steph. Dad’s picture reminded me of those I had seen on Max’s Instagram.

“When I met your mum, she was engaged, you know. With a fine young gentleman. And I was a burnout journalist with a great resume but without a chance of being hired. No one would want a correspondent who loses his mind, triggered by trivial occurrences.” Dad continued not minding my silence, at all. “The though she’s gonna be my wife where nowhere close to my mind. If someone claimed she’s my future, I would laugh wholeheartedly at that hilarious joke. We were from two different worlds, I have my own issues to overcome and yeah she was only one step from taking vows with another man.”

“But, but…” I stuttered, right after finally showing the ability to speak. ‘Twas impossible. I’d always thought, they were freaking soulmates or something who clicked the first time they had met. That dad, fall in love with mother at once.

“She knew, though. Or at least that’s what she claims.” Dad smiled. “That it was the love at first sight. And even when she had tried to rationalise the whole thing. To dismiss the crazy idea of something as foolish as love at first sight. Although, everything that happened next only confirmed she was right at the very first moment when falling for me. Her words,” He turned to me briefly and winked.

“It doesn’t sound like a mother.” Was all I could muster.

“You’re too hard on her,” dad parked the car in front of the apartment building where Taylor shared her flat with me, “just like you’re on yourself, cupcake. Which basically make you two the same.”

I adored dad. He always acted with kindness towards me, never preached or pushed. Even after the Kate Marsh incident, he had never hold it against me. On the other hand, he hadn't spoken to my older brother for years. I pushed away the thoughts of my love life. I understood dad meant well, but this should be discussed only with Steph. I appreciated dad’s thoughts, but he didn’t know a single thing about Max Caulfield’s preferences or if my perfect match wasn’t Steph.

“You should take Jamie back, papa. He wishes to be part of your life again.” I refocused our conversation to what was more important than my silly love life. Yes, my big brother had acted like a total dick and had hurt our family. Well, mostly my mother, because Jamie had blindly followed his manipulative ex-wife, spreading lies and wickedness. But now he knew, he had done wrong. Yet, dad didn’t seem willing to forgive him. I had been a reason behind Kate Marsh slit wrists and had been pardoned unconditionally. Jamie deserved as much.

“Maybe I would. If your brother not only wished for it but worked for it.” Dad explained and leant towards me. “I love you, cupcake.”

“I love you, too, papa.” I hugged him, took my handbag and hopped off the car regretting we couldn’t spend some more time, together. But my parents were about to hit the theatre in the evening, and there was a romantic Valentine dinner waiting for me. Or so I thought. When I ran upstairs and entered the apartment, a meticulously built house of cards fell down in a grand fashion.

“Hi, honey I’m home.” I teased from the hall after I got in. But the smell of delicious dinner was accompanied by deathly silence. I moved to the living room and saw Steph and Taylor standing as far from each other as possible. 

“What’s wrong?” I required. Something definitely was wrong. They looked like they were at a funeral.

“I kissed her.” Taylor blurted. I didn’t consider this the right time for stupid jokes.

“It’s not funny, Tay. Seriously, what’s wrong? Did something happen to Jamie?”

“I kissed her. I-I…” Suddenly it was without a doubt it wasn’t a prank. The air felt heavier than ever. “It happened like ten minutes ago when I was supposed to leave.” The image of two of them kissing made me dizzy. I felt like vomiting. “And I could lie about it. Never tell. But there are no lies between us. I-I..so I had to tell you. I’m sorry. This whole Valentine dinner preparation… I got… I got carried away and lost my mind for a moment and kissed her. And I’m genuinely really sorry, and I’d totally understand if you’re going to hate me. I’ll manage to find a temporary living elsewhere. The apartment is yours. Until you forgive me. Oh, who am I kidding, you won’t, you gonna hate me forever. So it’s yours until you find a new place.”

Did I hate her? She was my best friend, and she just kissed the girl who I presumed I loved. It was breaking the fundamental code of friendship.

“I’ll leave you, two to talk it off, but please know one thing, Vic.” Taylor swallowed the lump in her throat but couldn’t stop the tears. “It was me, only me. She didn’t encourage anything. She loves you.”

Yeah, my best friend betrayed me the worst way a friend could betray you. But the truth was, Taylor had loved Steph before I had gotten involved with her. It was difficult to admit it, but I had known this from the very beginning. I had seen through her even when she hadn’t been ready to face her feelings. And now she was finally brave enough to accept this and more importantly even let Steph go because it was too late now when she was with me. In a way, Taylor did something super courageous and heroic. She stopped being a weak-kneed coward and faced everything. She was so gutsy she put our friendship at stake in exchange for honesty.

This insanity was totally on me. I had let things between Steph and me to continue when it was clear we didn’t belong together. I was such a fool. A top-notch expert in lying to myself. Fuck.

“Stop!” I seized the hold of Taylor’s wrist who was passing by. Maybe too tightly. But I couldn’t suppress the anger. “I’ll leave. You won’t follow. None of you. And finally, talk things between you.” I said harshly and left the apartment in a rush.

“Victoria! Victoria, please wait.” Steph decided to oppose my advice and caught up with me on the stairs. “I love you.” She pulled me into her embrace. I fight it. Mildly “I love, YOU.” I wanted to believe her, I really did. Her sad weeping eyes.

“But you love her, too,” I stated and realised I was crying.

She gulped. “I choose you.” But didn’t deny the feelings for Taylor. It was stupid because I knew there was no one to blame for this fucked-up mess than me. I had known there were things unsaid between them. That there was this bound. This unfinished fusion that my presence only delayed but never meant to stop. They belonged together, like my dad and mother. Yet, I had gotten involved with Steph. There had been a million clues telling me this is going to happen. And I hadn’t been listening to any.

“Remember the first time we kissed?” I swallowed. Speaking came as a bit tricky. “You said you didn’t want to kiss me because you knew that if you would if you’d knew how it feels, you’d desire to do it again.” Steph shook her head as if she knew I found the evidence that will prove her guilty “So you can declare now, without any doubt you don’t want to kiss Taylor again? Ever.”

“I chose you.” She repeated after the moment. I think I would feel bad for her if I wasn’t devastated myself. She was between a hard and rock place more than I did. I was sure she never intended to hurt me. But she never stopped having feelings for Taylor either.

“Goodbye, Steph. And watch over Taylor. Make it work. You two are meant to be.” My voice cracked, but I believed it. It was that kind of love story dad and mother had. And I needed to be gone.

“Victoria. Where would you go?”

“Maastricht, parents. For the weekend.” I escaped her attempt to touch me. And lied. No way I would allow my parents to see me like this. “Then I will see. I’ll send someone for my stuff. I can’t be around Taylor now. Or you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I’ve never meant this to happen. And I do love you.” I heard her talking, and it made me stop for a moment. Although I didn’t turn back to face her. It would kill me.

“I know,” I muttered. “But you're _in love_ with Taylor. I must go now.”

She let me. Next couple of hours were blurry. I was walking around the city, perhaps. Brooding about my pitiful existence. And somewhere in the middle of the night when the exhaustion was stronger than agony, I found myself not far from King’s college dorms. From where I stood, there were only two options left if I didn’t plan to go back to Taylor’s apartment. Which I totally didn’t. I could either sleep on the bench in the park or ask for help. I chose the latter and took out the phone. There were zillion missed calls and messages I ignored. Rather scrolled the contact list for someone utterly unexpected and hit the call button. After thirty seconds, I thought I lost, but the call was finally picked.

“Hi. I need a number of your dorm room, and no questions asked when I’ll show up. Do you think it’s possible?” My own voice sounded odd, but so did the one on the other side. I definitely interrupted a well-deserved sleep. Still, I was rewarded with kindness. “109? Okay. I’ll be there in a few. Thanks.”

* * *

**Max Caulfield**

**Sunday, February 16, Day 152**

It was long after midnight. The dorm’s hallway was empty. That I knew. How I got into this situation, I had no idea. I had drunk too much perhaps. Or allow someone to make me feel drunk.

There was no one around, except for me pushed to the door of my dorm room. And the girl who was kissing me needily. Kissing. What an understatement, I thought trying to constrict my thighs around the throbbing heat building between them. My panties were completely drenched. The girl, who kept me company the whole evening, bit my lower lip gently and kept spilling kisses on the way up to my collarbone. There was just one way how to end this sweet torture. That was no doubt. The only question was who will end it. Me, by myself. Or Victoria Chase, the strangest enigma and the fucking best kisser in the entire world. The sound of pleasure escaped my mouth when Victoria’s worship of my neck concluded with the soft nimble of my ear and whisper.

„Are you going to invite me in, Max?”

“No, “I gasped for air, “I don’t think so,” and recaptured Victoria’s lips fervently.

There was no need to fool myself, I wasn’t in control. The slick dampness between my legs was telling me. Also, the swift tongue in my mouth winning the passionate battle. But I wasn’t helpless either. This affinity or crazy infatuation or whatever it was between the two of us worked both ways. 

“Why is that?”

Victoria broke the kiss, panting, her body was still pressed to mine. I licked my swollen lips, trying to steady the breathing. Trying to figure out how to survive this night, without ending as a complete loser.

“Because we both know how it would end.”

“Do we?” Victoria tried to feign innocence, but her hungry stare told a different story. That was definitely a piece of valuable information that could be worked with.

“Uh-huh.”

My hand slid under Victoria’s luxurious piece of upper garment and stroked the delicate skin of her tummy.

“So, you would show me your collection of selfies, wouldn’t you?”

“No.” 

I leant closer to Victoria’s lips again, but before she was able to revive the kissing, my head dodged briskly, and I took advantage of the moment of distraction. Victoria lost a balance for the second and before she knew it was her who was pinned to the dorm room door.

“I would rip off this ridiculously expensive cardigan,” with one hand still caressing Victoria’s tummy when another pressed on her chest, “without giving the slightest damn about these buttons,” I spoke being very cautious that every word voiced meant my lips brushed Victoria’s ear.

“So-so, you’d destroy my sweater. That’s all?” Victoria hissed, and her confidence that she’ll decide where this will go was fading clearly. I had to believe it because if I falter, the doubts will consume me, and when it happens, I’ll lose. “That’s what your suppressed anger orders you to do? Because you are jealous of me.”

“Jealousy is not what I feel when thinking about you.” My hand, the one pressed on Victoria’s chest went up and cupped her face. “And I definitely do not suppress…” when my thumb stroked Victoria’s lips and then slipped in gently bid to be sucked. “...anything.”

Victoria was left speechless. Her mouth focused on the thumb inside as expected, her arousal rising. I could smell the scent of her sex, and there was no doubt her knickers were as much soaked as mine. The moment we would enter the dorm room, we’ll be fucking mindlessly. As simple as it might seem, it wasn’t in my head.

“Every night, when I’m touching myself the way you’re dying to touch me right now,” I started slowly, seductively and Victoria stopped the sucking and let out the whimper. Her body stiffened, her arms tightened the grip around my torso, and her nails dug in the back of my neck. “I can assure you I do not suppress anything when I scream in pleasure after the wild climax.”

“You--you…I-I’m not...” Whether it was true or not, whether I really had been pleasing myself thinking about Victoria, it didn’t matter. The reaction this image caused was enough for me to continue. 

“So if I’ll invite you in, you’d be desperate to touch me where I’m touching myself. To slide your insanely long fingers into the pool of wetness between my legs. And thrust… And thrust. Deeper.”

I made a little step backwards and created a small space between us. Both of my hands disconnected from Victoria's body, the right escaped the warm place under her cardigan the other lowered from her face. The action might give the impression I’m reaching for the room keys in my pocket. The destination was elsewhere. Victoria couldn’t notice because she was hypnotised by an intense stare of my sapphire eyes, debilitated by my words.

“Take me-- Take me in then, and we will see.”

It was unusual. Unexpected. And unbelievable. Ice queen Victoria Chase was squirming like a schoolgirl who forgot her homework. 

“Or taste.” I brought up the hand that was supposed to find the room keys in the pocket but was nowhere close to them actually and grazed Victoria’s lips with the middle and index finger. She shuddered and whimpered when realised they're covered with sweet dampness. She grabbed my wrist tightly and licked the fingers that had just been inside me.

“Fuck. Max, just open the damn door and let me f---”

I didn’t open the door. I captured Victoria’s lips with fervour, and both of my hands were under Victoria’s sweater in a second. 

“But I don’t really think you’d be able…” I spoke in between kisses and moans, “...to do what you desire…” feeling Victoria’s hand burying into my hair, pulling me closer disappointed with too much talk and too little action.

“I wouldn’t. And you wouldn’t scream in pleasure. If you won’t---” Victoria choked and left the thought unfinished after my hands relocated to the top of her stomach and slipped under the cups of her lace bra. 

“You wouldn’t even have time to catch a breath once we were inside. Because I’d ripped down that annoying sweater of yours, pin you down to the bed, and my mouth would capture these.” Victoria’s hardened nipples were between my fingers, but real tease came from my tongue. I tilted my head to the side so I could be closer to her ear again.

“And I’d do this exact thing to both of them.” I bit Victoria’s earlobe just with the right intensity to tease but not hurt it and then sucked it very very gently. I hoped no one’s around cause Victoria was right on edge, unable to control the sound of pleasure escaping her mouth, anymore.

“And then after your body would arch under my hands, I’d go down, my tongue would find a way to the place between your beautiful thighs. To that swollen throbbing mound that already screams for being released. And I’d do this.” My tongue dipped inside Victoria’s ear and trough slow circle motions excited every single nerve ending in there. 

“Max, please…”

I retreated. I took back my tongue, my hands and also took two steps away from Victoria. She was already where I wanted her.

“And that’s why I cannot invite you in.”

“Wha-what? What?” Victoria was losing it, dying for being stripped from her clothes and fucked hard. Not that like I had it any better, I was just better in hiding it.

“I cannot invite you in because I only can do this to someone I love. And I’m definitely not supposed to fall in love with you, Victoria Chase. “ I said knowing, I would allow Victoria to have her way with me, no matter what. Knowing that if Victoria will refuse to play this game and will decide to leave, I would beg her to stay. But I still had the cards close to my chest, so Victoria had no clue how terribly infatuated I really was with her. 

“No love has to be involved. What if I told you, you can enjoy a great pleasure without actually being in love. It’s worth trying, trust me.” 

Victoria smirked after she gained a bit of confidence again, and I knew what I had to do.

“Is it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, then.”

I turned around like I wanted to walk away. The reaction was instant. Victoria put her arm around my waist and pulled me back to her embrace. I showed no resistance.

“Where would you go, Max?” 

“I--- I’m going to find someone with whom I’ll enjoy a great pleasure without being in love.” _Fuck._ I wasn't supposed to say _that._ I should spit something about the wild hunt that includes no strings attached or anything with benefits. And the simplicity of such connection. To provoke Victoria. To make her yearn for me even more. But no, I said that freaking L word again. Three seconds before I was in the position when I could pretend I had a full house on my hand. Maybe even a straight flush. Instead of winning this game, I got carried away and mentioned Love twice in the span of 30 seconds. And now it will be difficult to convince anyone there were at least two pairs between my cards when there was none. “One-night stand? That‘s how they call it, no?” I wanted to sound impassive. My voice was shaky, though. There was no chance Victoria didn’t see right through me, already. The intention was to seed the idea of a deeper connection between us into her head. Not to make a pathetic love confession. _FUCK._

“I didn’t mean you should go on a rampage seeking random encount--- Wait! Did you say without being in love? So you’re already in love? With me?”

Victoria stared at me in awe. Of course, she got it. I gulped, unable to hold it together anymore. There was no denying I basically admitted I was head over heels on her. Victoria won. 

“Yeah, there is nothing more I want right now than go to that room and do all those things to you. Only you. Pathetic, right?”

Victoria untouched me and shook her head. It made me feel sick. _Freaking Great_. I could have unforgettable sex with this Goddess, instead, I screwed up everything bringing that love nonsense, and now I must look like an utter fool.

“Well, I guess I better go, now,” I muttered trying to sneak out around Victoria to go be embarrassed alone in my room. She didn’t let me. Surprisingly she put both hands on my face and brought our lips together, into the tender kiss.

“I want the same thing, Max Caulfield. I want you.” She breathed. “Just you.”

I was second from dragging her to my room and devouring her. Devouring the fact she wanted me. Only me. But the fire alarm disrupted all of my efforts.

_“Fuck.”_

My eyes were wide open at once.

It wasn’t a fire alarm but my phone ringing. I hadn’t experienced the steamiest make out session a moment ago, and no one kept me company. Because I was alone in my bed. 

“FUCK. IT WAS A FUCKING DREAM! Of course, it was.” 

I reached for the phone and dismissed the call from mum. It was... What day it was. Sunday? Yeah. 9:02 I realised when I checked the phone once more. That wasn’t the time for a heartbreaking conversation with mother. Especially not after that dream. I sunk back to bed and couldn’t shake it off. The feeling of arousal, greed, need. 

“Shit, shit, shit.”

My nipples were hardened and space between my thighs insanely wet. What the fuck I had been thinking. I should not make out with Victoria, not even in a freaking dream. Damn it! She’s in love with that Steph girl. She’s unattainable.

“Maybe calm down, Max. It wasn’t even you in the dream. Just some weird alternative version of you.” I placated myself. Because I in the dream acted totally out of character. Yes, that was precisely what had happened. I accidentally saw them kissing on Friday and it kind of weirdly lingered in my unconsciousness. And then the sleeping brain had created an incoherent story combining impossible images. Because I would not try to seduce someone who was taken, and I couldn’t be in love with Victoria Chase, I didn’t know anything about her. _Right? Right?_ _Fuck._

I needed some serious distraction. _Current perspectives on Forensic Psychology and Criminal Behaviour_. That would be great. Some insight into criminal minds is far far away from lusting about unattainable girls. I jumped from the bed and checked the bookshelf and then my bag and then I knew it was a vain effort. The book will not appear magically only because I desired to. I had lent it to Warren the other day.

“Fuck.”

Boys Dorms were like ten minutes walk. And I needed to wear proper clothes when I was about to go out. Or maybe I could sink back to bed. I closed my eyes, and the vivid images from the dream were back in no time as I expected.

“Gawd, no. Max, no, no, no. Fuck. I hate you Victoria Chase and want you gone from my head ASAP!” I screamed as if it was her fault. Well, it kind of was. She was radiant, always showing when I was a damsel in distress. Voting for my photo, pulling me through the PTSD. “Damn you, Max!” I use a serious tone. “You’re going to take a shower, dress and walk to boy’s dorms and pick the _Current perspectives on Forensic Psychology and Criminal Behaviour_. And you’ll do it without giving any more thought to the girl who should not be named.”

And so I did, successfully. Until I knocked on Warren’s doors. Because it was kind of difficult to not think about the person when the person was standing right in front of you.

“Oh, hi.” Victoria wore Warren’s oversized t-shirt and nothing else. “Warren went to grab some breakfast. He-- he'll be back in no time.”

I’ve never been punched in the face, but at this very moment, I felt like a hammer was thrown my way and hit the spot right on the bridge of my nose. What in the freaking hell was going on? Had they had a one night stand? Was Victoria really fucking around? With anyone but me?

“Max, what’s wrong? You look pale.” She gently touched my shoulder. I think I gibbered something unintelligibly. “There was a pipe leak in my flat, you know. I called Warren if I could stay for a night, and he agreed.” She responded.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” After those reassuring words, some blood came back to my brain, and my perception sharpened again. I was able to recognise she was lying about the pipe leak, but I also figured there was no wild sex going on the previous night. Victoria’s eyes were swollen and puffy. And sad. So, so, so sad. She must be crying for hours. “I need _Current perspectives on Forensic Psychology and Criminal Behaviour_ textbook. Warren borrowed it from me so if you see it somewhere just fetch it to me and I will not bother you anymore.” I mustered. She looked around the room and found the book. And then I was gone. So were the vivid memories of the inappropriate dream from the last night. The only thing that stuck with me was sorrow. Her sorrow.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, I have suffered hurting Victoria like this. Some say when dedicated actors perform, they’re becoming a character. The same applies to writers, I dare to say. Surely to me.
> 
> Anyway, if by any chance, you've read some of my other works, you might find Max’s dream sequence in this chapter familiar. Well, you are not mistaken. There is a [short story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848422) I published almost a year ago. After I finished it, it gave me a lot of ideas on how to evolve it to something much more complex. And here we are.
> 
> I’m honoured you've made it so far where nothing stands in the way for Max and Victoria, anymore to become a super badass cop duo and fight crime together :) So I'd love to thank you guys, you're the real MVPs.


	16. Kristine Prescott’s Survival Guide

**Victoria Chase**

**Monday, February 17, Day 153, Year 1**

The night was about to end, I realised when the wall behind Warren’s laptop screen got decorated with obscure shadows. A quick peek revealed there was no sun behind the window, just a thick mist that wasn’t completely dark, anymore. I checked my armband. 7:47am. Another night without much sleep. Whatever. At least Warren had shown me this MMORPG. The Scrolls of War. I wasn’t any hardcore gamer. I had done some specialities that definitely deserved my attention. Like FF13 or DA:O but no multiplayer. Although I must admit Scrolls of Wars helped me immensely to get distracted. From lots of shits around.

“What level are you?” Warren tossed in his bed.

“37,” I said with pride slaughtering some mobs on my way to the boss.

“37 in one day? You’re becoming a geek, you know that?”

“Sexy geek.” I retorted. Watching the dungeon’s boss falling down.

“And the loud one.” Warren rolled out of bed and stretched his limbs.

“Sorry, I promise I’m not coming back today. The leak is almost solved. And you have my eternal thanks for letting me stay.” I apologised, knowing I still had no solutions to my housing situation. And I was fully aware that my hitting the keyboard the whole night probably didn’t mean he had a good sleep.

“It’s fine, really. You can stay. Just maybe sleep a bit at night. It will do both of us a favour. And also you can drop the pipe leak stunt. Once you told me I have a brain. So I hope you still believe it.” He smiled and disappeared into the bathroom. 

It wasn’t fine, really. I had used him because I knew he’s gonna obey. If I called Zach for example, he’d dismiss my bullshit about the pipe leak at once and ask too many questions. Although now, Warren seems to see through me, as well. I grabbed the phone and sent a text to Taylor.

_A friend of mine will pick my laptop in a few. Also, pack some of my clothes to the gym bag, will you? I’ll come for the rest later.”_

The incoming call happened in a second. She cared, so of course, she called. But I wasn’t ready. I dismissed it. Taylor was one of the most important parts of my life. Our friendship will be restored eventually, that was without a doubt. But it won’t be anytime soon. It still hurt too much.

“The bathroom is yours,” Warren informed me subtly. 

“Thanks.” I picked the pants and shirt dangling over the chair that I bought in the mall, yesterday and turned to him. “Listen, could we do the detour on our way to school? And.. you’ll take some stuff from my flat. The flat where no pipe leak happened, but I still cannot visit, yet?” I asked tentatively and hoped he’ll not require a reason. From his look, it was clear he yearned to. And I was about to say forget it, but he nodded wordlessly. 

When I readied myself, we left his room, and everything went smoothly. Warren did as I asked and wasn’t away for more than a few minutes. When back from Taylor’s, he managed to stuff everything into the storage space of his Vespa. So the most anxious thing on our way to Academy was the ride on that sneaky little thing when I had to be stuck to his shaking body. The icy weather had left a mark. Warren had been adamant about me wearing his special biker coat, that kept me warm. Which meant he must be freezing driving that machine only in the hoodie. When he pulled in in front of the Academy, I took it off, immediately. He protested, shivering and claimed that I needed it more. I was a freaking mess at the moment, but I still happened to be Victoria fucking Chase. One wrathful look of mine convinced him to comply with my request, fortunately.

I mean, I had invaded his privacy two days ago, robbed him of his sleep and taken advantage of his hospitality. It was terrible enough without causing him to get cold.

Warren put the coat on and picked my stuff from the trunk, and we left Vespa and the gloomy weather behind us and entered the Academy in silence. Appeased by the thought he was warm again, and my laptop back in my possession, I even managed to find solace in one thought. I was super looking forward to installing The Scrolls of War and play it again. The only question that remained was, where it’s gonna be. 

“You can stay with me, you know. As long as you need.” Warren reassured me when we got in the class. 

“I’ve already overstayed my welcome,” I said, taking my gym bag and laptop bag he was caring for me till now as a true gentleman.

“You haven’t, but it’s your decision, of course. Oh, and there is something more.” He reached for the back pocket of his jeans and gave me a folded paper. “The brunette, the one from the bar, the one you kissed in front of the college, begged me to give you this.”

So Steph had been there. She must spend the night. But wasn’t it precisely what I had asked her? To watch over Taylor. Fuck. I touched the paper and thought it was burning. “Thanks, Warren.” I tried to give him a smile, but my effort could hardly be called successful. I sunk down to the chair. Opening that folded paper would be opening Pandora’s box. Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from doing it.

_There is no way I could... we could make what happened right, but please know this…_

I spotted Steph’s delicate handwriting, and the whole world started to spin. 

“What’s that Vicky a _liebesbrief_ from Warren Gayram?” Zachary joked when joined me at our desk, but I barely heard him. I just couldn’t anymore. I must leave. I crumpled the paper with vigour and jumped from my seat. Last part of sanity ordered me to pick the bags with clothes and laptop and run. “Vicky, Vicky what’s goin’ on?” He shouted, but I ignored him. I ignored everything. Somehow I made it to the girls' restroom where I fell into pieces and slid down to the floor.

I didn’t plan to cry. I didn’t intend to not give a shit about crying. I never ever in the world wanted something like this to happen in the public restrooms. Yet, it was exactly the situation I was currently in. 

I hid my head in the palms of my hands and let it all out. It felt oddly calming. The sobbing, choking, gasping. Someone entered. At this point, I couldn’t make myself care.

“Hey, no penis is worth your tears, hun. And don’t forget there are tons of them around. We’ll find you another one.”

Kristine Prescott. How bizarre! My supposedly greatest rival and hater, kneeled down to me. From all of the things, she presented compassion, the secret sisterhood all women presumably shared because she thought some boy had dumped me. I would laugh trough all those tears and sobs if I wasn’t so wrecked.

“You know, not everything is about penis?” I said weakly, accepting the napkin she fetched me. 

“Of course everything is about penis in this twisted world. Look around! That’s why women have to stick together.” She said in a lightly teasing tone and put her arm around my shoulders, squeezing me gently.

“Well, in that case, I didn’t notice SHE had one,” I confessed, and she stiffened for a second. I felt her eyes on me. Kristine Prescot was many things, a lot of those radical perhaps, but I’d never considered her a homophobe. Fortunately, her next action proved she wasn’t. She pulled me into her arms and hugged me tighter.

“That bitch doesn’t deserve you, Chase.” She exclaimed. And my sobbing revived. For the first time, I felt like I wasn’t the villain. Like I was hurt in the first place in that whole mess. And it was Kristine Prescott from all of the people who made me feel this way.

“Come. We need to get you out of here.” She pulled me up, hung my bags over her shoulder and didn’t cease to surprise me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the class?” I asked but already kinda expected what her eloquent mouth was about to say.

“Aren’t you?”

“Touché.” She brought the tiniest smile to my face. “Just for the record, you’re not going to take me some place dark and kill me there, now when I’m unable to fight?” Technically we were something like sworn enemies. Yet, she hooked her arm to mine like BFF of the year. Life was definitely strange, sometimes. Or all the time.

“Of course, I am.” She laughed and dragged me out of the restrooms. “Or you know what? Now when I know you’re a pussy eater I think I let you live. You can’t be my wingwoman without a risk you’re going to steal the best penises.”

“Would you please stop saying that word?” The smile she had caused a moment ago became a little bit wider.

“Which one?” Kristine pretended ignorance.

“You know which.”

“No prob, Chase." She assured me with all seriousness when we got out of the Academy and met and misty February morning.

“Thank you.” I appreciated, she was okay with abandoning her second most favourite topic. And then I caught a spark of mischievousness suggesting she was about to do the exact opposite. It was so intense it could cut through shitty weather if by any chance she possessed supergirl abilities.

“If you feel poetic, I can use many more instead. Would you like the cock more? Or dick? The meat show.”

“Oh for fuck sake, Prescott, please stop.” I couldn’t suppress the laugh.

“Prick. Bone ranger, Wiener, Vagina miner, Fire Hose, Ding Dong, Meat popsicle, Bratwurst.”

“Are you done?” Now the tears that stained my cheeks weren’t a result of sadness but amusement.

“Did it help to not think about that vagina you were crying about?”

“I guess,” I acknowledged.

“Cool, I have many more then. Schnitzel, Beaver basher, Pickle, Mastersword--”

“Prescott, really, stop. Stop! I’m crying my eyes out now from laughing, so technically I’m where I was ten minutes ago.”

“Chill muff muncher. No more male genitalia nicknames.” She exclaimed, and for this time, it was genuine.

“Seriously, how many of those you know?”

She stopped in the middle of the wet green stained by dew, looked at me, definitely seriously, “all of them of course. At least I’m better than you in one thing.” I had to wonder why beating me was so important to her.

“Is everything a competition for you?”

“Approval’s the most important, doncha think?” She said as if it was the first law of humanity. “Everyone seeks it.”

“At first maybe. But there are so many better things than that.” I explained, while it only deepened my sadness.

“Like what?” She asked, obviously not believing there is anything better than approval. 

“Love.”

The word left a bitter taste in my mouth, yet I still firmly believed true love can win over anything. Like my parent’s. Like Steph and Taylor’s. Only if they hadn’t been suppressing their feelings so hard, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess. Although, to be honest, I had played my part magnificently as well, when suppressing mine. And rather than admit I was head over heels with Max Caulfield and deal with it I had gotten suck into the absurd affair with Steph.

“Love?”

Kristine snapped in disbelief. Unable to speak, permeated by desolation, I just nodded. Again, despite everything that happened, I didn’t doubt the power of love. “It’s basically the same thing, Victoria! Love and approval. Approval is just a bit upgraded and less flawed version of love.” She retorted.

“No.’ Tis not,” I said, feeling tears of sorrow coming back. “Approval is an endless hunt. Love is an absolution.”

“You’re talking about absolution and love when your heart was torn apart?” Kristine's voice softened, and her thumb stroked my teary cheek. “Frankly, I don’t see it as a release from punishment. Love is a possession, not absolution. It always consumes you to the point where nothing left. The approval offers so much more.”

“It’s the approval that possesses you, Kristine, not true love. The addiction to approval makes you do horrible things. True love, on the other hand, can make even the worst people do the best things. If someone truly loves you, it means you’re worthy of that perfect fusion. That’s the upgrade. You connect with someone, and it brings both of you on the next level. But maybe not everyone deserves to be atoned, not everyone deserves to be loved.”

I had hurt Kate Marsh. And because of that, the sole thing I desired was forbidden to me. With this Steph fiasco, maybe I really should stop trying to convince myself otherwise. I couldn’t say if I convinced Kristine love was better than approval, but she was astonished by my straightforward words. Because for a moment she didn’t say anything more, just linked our arms again and led me to the tram stop.

“You’re different.” She muttered after some thinking had been done inside her mind.

“Different than you thought?”

“Different than anyone else I’ve ever met,” Kristine stated, and as a scarce occasion, there was no hint of smug in her voice. “So, what kind of crime did you commit, then? When you feel like there is no atonement waiting for you.”

“The worst one. I judged without evidence.” Yeah, I’d condemned Kate Marsh to humiliation, because I’d considered her as pathetic nobody who deserved to be mocked. And this was my never-ending sentence. 

“You know what? I’ll take you to a great place with great drinks. If you leave that heavy stuff and self-pity just for a moment. Whatcha think?”

I just shrugged. The plan was as good as any. I could use some booze, and I have nowhere to go. So, we hopped in the tram together, and I hoped one absence in professor’s Heywood class won’t have dire consequences. 

**Max Caulfield**

**Monday, February 17, Day 153, Year 1**

It has been twenty minutes since Victoria had left. And Kristine, yeah Kristine I barely tolerate Victoria Chase because I must, had followed. None of them had returned. Not like it was expected. I hadn’t been a paragon of calmness before this strange occurrence had happened. Still, after that, I had almost literally ants in the pants. I couldn’t sit still. Nothing that professor Heywood was saying reached my ears. I was surprised how cool he took that two of his students had disappeared a minute before the class had started. Especially after the reasoning.

Well, Victoria hadn’t offered any, just dashed out. Kristine had watched the situation with a thorough eye, whispered something to Drew and disappeared in a rush as well. He hadn’t seemed excited about the whole thing. From the expression on his face, I would say he hadn’t fancied, what Kristine had said at all. When professor Heywood had inquired if the girls are coming back, Drew had stammered something about period issues and the possibility it would prevent them from rejoining the class. If I hadn’t been baffled about the Victoria situation, I would probably laugh, how awkward he must feel. Being a nice boyfriend who had been apologising his girl absence due to the period issues. Which obviously wasn’t true, anyway. Kristine had made him say that. But again, professor Heywood didn’t make any fuss about it. And that’s why I couldn’t shake the feeling maybe I shouldn’t be here either but anywhere where Victoria was. Something was terribly wrong with her. I had no doubt. And when there had been something terribly wrong with me, she had helped. Although even if I didn’t owe her, I would desire to offer my hand. Now I knew that much.

Consumed by confusing thoughts, I was playing with my retractable pilot pen, erratically clicking the top of it to the point our mentor approached my desk and reached for my hand.

“If there is any problem Miss Caulfield, that prevents you from being at full strength in my class, you can leave. Like Miss Chase and Miss Prescott did. One absence per semester is acceptable.” He informed me with patience stealing the pen and putting it on the desk. “If not, would you kindly stop the clicking? In years when my sight was deteriorating, my hearing enhanced, and that repetitive sound is rather tormenting.” He concluded.

Now I had a chance to leave, but it was no point anymore, was it? I was twenty minutes late for making that decision.

“Sorry, professor. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” I declared being anything but fine. 

“That’s amazing news,” he jested. “Now, back to forensic science.”

I got the pen again and stopped myself a millisecond before clicking it once more. _Fuck._ This was killing me. I scrapped a paper from my notebook and jotted a few words on it. Then fetched it to Warren. He read the note and looked at me in awe. Yet, he responded to my unexpected request.

_I don’t think any girl would be so devastated about the pipe leak unless it ruined her burgundy dress. What your detective skills are telling your Warren, is this about the dress?_ That was my claim towards him.

_Defo not a dress, neither a leak. A break. UP._ Warren wrote.

The heat rushed all over me. I felt my face flushed, my body buzzing. It was like a room get ten degrees hotter. And then it hit me like a fireball. I was happy. Yeah, that was the feeling the overcame me. The joy.

“Professor Heywood.” I hopped on my feet.” I must go. Because of the period, and… stuff.” I blurted. “When women are spending time together, their periods synchronise. Spice Girls were first who dare to speak about this. Do you know Spice girls, don’t you?” I couldn’t see his eyes because of ever-present dark lens glasses, but somehow, I could tell I got him out of balance. Before any response came, I was gone.

I took me two minutes to reach the entrance hall and meet with an ugly foggy morning. It took me one more to realise I was hyperventilating, and the throbbing behind the bridge of my nose will result in nosebleed in no time. It wasn’t anything new when in highly stressed situations, my body used to react this way every now and then. But the current situation had nothing to do with stress, or anxiety or PTSD. It was overjoy, overwhelmingly over here.

I pressed my nostrils together softly sensing the blood started to seep. “This is ridiculous,” I must laugh about how absurd this all was. With a bit of difficulty, I found napkins and car keys in the bag and slipped into my Volkswagen Polo. A heated vehicle was a much better place for dealing with this unexpected outburst than parking place dove in a chilly under the skin-crawling fog. I turned the engine and set the heater to the maximum. For now, my blood might be overflown by endorphins, but when all these emotions are gonna sink, I would need some warmness. After I calmed myself a bit and settled some of those immense feelings, I dialled Rachel.

“Am I a bad person when I’m happy someone is sad?” I spoke before she could say a word.

_“What?”_

“They broke up,” I announced like I just won the lottery.

_“Who?”_

“Rachel, are you cereal?”

_“Max,”_ she sighed, _“you’re not making any—Oh. Victoria and that girl of hers broke up?”_

“Yes!”

_“Well, that’s a hella good news, isn’t it?”_ Rachel finally shared my enthusiasm.

“So, am I or am I not a bad person when I’m happy she’s sad?”

Victoria was devasted. It might not be apparent at first sight, but her eyes were full of sorrow. I had seen it. I wished for her to not be sad, yet I couldn’t suppress the delight that dwelled in me. I’ve never felt anything like this. And it was freaking confusing but exciting at the same time.

Rachel didn’t respond immediately, and the silence only intensified all of my contradictory emotions. But when she revived the conversation, she gave me exactly what I needed. _“Max, oh, Max. You’re not happy because someone’s sad, you’re happy because she’s not going to be with a wrong person anymore. They wouldn't break up if they were meant to be, would they?_ ”

I praised her will to support me. Actually, that was a reason I had called her in the first place. She loved me that much that she would always be honest with me. And at this very moment, I needed clarity I couldn’t achieve just by myself. Although it was obvious, she couldn’t be certain who Victoria’s match was. “But how… how can I know, I am the right person, Rach?”

_“There’s only one way to find out,”_ Rachel said, and there was no need to elaborate. I had to get out of my comfort zone. Had there be any chance for winning Victoria’s heart, I needed to approach her, befriend her and see where it’s gonna take us. Not sit on my sorry ass. _“Yet, you must not rush. Rebound girl is never the right one. Take one day at a time.”_ She concluded.

I wasn’t afraid I’m gonna rush. Because even when the thought of Victoria becoming a part of my life brought an unknown thrill, I was an absolute newcomer according to these matters. I had never actively seeking anyone’s attention. Which made it equally horrifying.

I checked the blood-soaked napkin. The amount of drying blood was significant compared to the fresh one. The bleeding was diminishing, then. I closed my eyes and thought of Chloe. Resolving her case was my purpose. Could it coexist with having feelings towards Victoria and act upon these feelings? Or would it be a betrayal? What would Chloe think of it?

“Okay, alright.” I started. “Let’s just say I’m going to do this, this leap of faith. Could you do the same?”

_“I’m not sure I understand what do you mean, Super Max.”_

“If all forces combined will work, and by any chance, I will be able to make Victoria give me a chance, to win her hear. If the opportunity for something I still cannot fully embrace, I should do will be granted to me. If this is going to happen, you’re gonna stop treating your lovers as a whim. You will give love a real chance, too.”

_“Don’t be silly, Max. I am opened to love, there just hasn’t been the right person around_.” Rachel reassured me, but I heard it in her voice. The contradiction she wasn’t aware of. But I was because of the perspective she didn’t have. It had served me well for years, her well-meant nudges, bits of advice. It had kept that little flame in me that almost died lit. Because she had the perspective, I hadn’t. Maybe now it was my turn to show her one.

“Hasn’t it, Rachel? Or you just have had no desire to find such a person? You’ve told me Chloe would want us to be happy, remember? Well, start believing it!”

_“I-I—”_ She trailed off. I guessed I hit the nail, then.

“What about this? One day at a time, as you said. And we will see if there’s any love out there for us. And no matter what the outcome is gonna be, on Chloe’s next birthday we’re gonna buy the most expensive booze and pay her a visit. And tell her all about our miserable love lives while getting drunk to oblivion at her grave, making a ruckus that attracts police patrol. And then we’re gonna outmatch them and run away making Chloe watch the show, she’s never gonna forget, no matter where she is now.”

I heard Rachel laughing on the other side of the line. _“Max, you’re police vigilante as you showed in November, no patrol would dare to face your Kung-Fu.”_

“I hope some would. Chloe would love to see that.”

_“She would indeed.”_ Rachel agreed. _“Listen, Max, I gotta go. The shooting is about to start. We’ll talk about this later. Or never. But keep me updated about Victoria, okay?”_

“Imma. Love you, Rach.”

_“Love you too, Super Max.”_

The call ended, and the ray of light found its way through the heavy mist, I noticed.

**Victoria Chase**

**Monday, February 17, Day 153, Year 1**

It showed Kristine took me to her place. It was a lovely apartment, bigger than the one I shared with Taylor. It had a better view and a vast kitchen. I loved large kitchens. Dad had been often busy when I was a kid, but every Sunday, he had found time to cook for our family. We had had a housemaid, although she had always been free on weekends. Those memories with dad in the kitchen were the most dearest I had.

This flat of Kristine must cost a fortune. Well, it wasn’t a secret her family was at least as wealthy as mine. My parents could buy me the same, probably in a minute. I couldn’t imagine going back to Taylor’s right now. It would take a couple of calls, and I could move to King’s College dorms, also. Where Steph lived. Damn, not the best idea either. I was slowly coming to the realisation, there was no other option left other than speak to my parents, after all, and asked them to solve this mess. Brilliant. As if I didn’t feel like a useless shit already.

“Chamomile with a pinch of honey and a slice of lemon. My grandma’s speciality. You’re lucky. This is the only thing I know how to make in the kitchen without burning it.” Kristine brought me the tea that smelled like heaven and sank down to the couch next to me. “And just for the record, I’m not trying to woo you. Even when you have a body of the goddess. I love men. I mean I hate them, but--”

“I get it really. No need to elaborate.” I took a sip and relished the extraordinary taste. “And this tea is marvellous. But honestly, I expected we were going to get hammered somewhere.” Even when it would be probably difficult to find such a place at nine in the morning.

“Yeah, yeah.” She smirked. “That was my initial idea, too. But today I had a fight with Drew. And I had a major disagreement with my imbecile father at the weekend. Oh, and my bit unhinged twin brother was taken to the mental asylum, again. So I’m probably as fucked up as you are right now. And as I mentioned, you have a body of the goddess and know how to say all those amazing things about love and absolution. Gosh, who wouldn’t fall for you? Anyway, with all this going on, your heartbroken situation and stuff and me being super stressed, If I got hammered, I could get funny ideas. And I don’t want that. I don’t want to be that girl.”

“What girl?”

“Well, the one who sleeps with a girl because it’s cool now.”

I took another sip of probably the best tea I’ve ever had and hardly believed what I was about to say. “Kristine Prescott, I know this will be maybe a bit out of character, but I think I like you.”

“Why wouldn’t you like me? I’m awesome.” She nudged my shoulder. Her whole demeanour was nothing like what I knew so far about her. She acted with kindness, not relentless with an overwhelming urge to end everyone who’s not fulfilling some crazy standards she considered righteous.

I must ask. “Why are you supportive all of a sudden. Don’t you hate me or something?” I totally appreciated her warm attitude, although I still didn’t quite get it.

“No, I don’t hate you.” She sounded nervous, almost vulnerable “Nothing against you personally, actually. But you know, hate the sin, love the sinner. I couldn’t much distinguish those two and I wasn’t fond of you, initially. I admit.”

“And what’s precisely my sin? Well, in your eyes. I am very much aware of what it is in mine.” I finished my tea and put the cup on the table. Kristine took a deep breath and took her time until she spoke eventually.

“None. Now I see. I hated the idea of who you were supposed to represent, but the idea wasn’t true. I was wrong. Does it pleases you?” She laughed, yet without any sign, anything was amusing about the whole thing. And I didn’t see why it should please me. Kristine Prescott was an extraordinary young woman. Clever and beautiful. Someone like me was no threat to her.

“And who I was supposed to represent?” I asked, although I had lots of solid images of what she meant.

“Lot of things. Twisted and wicked. The self-conceited girl who is dying for being appreciated. The girl who makes herself look like she wants to make a difference. But actually, she stands for nothing and falls for everything. More or less. And you know what? That girl I should detest is me, not you.”

“You fight for what you believe Prescott, with your heart. Of course, you desire to see people appreciate your genuine effort to change things.” Maybe I didn’t find a liking in her methods, and her sometimes over hysterical antics but she wanted to make a difference. It was a goal more than worthy.

“Do I? Or am I just angry, because I’m not as capable as others. As my father would want me to be?”

“You’ve been picked from thousands of candidates for the spot in Heywood’s team. You must be special, must you not? Why you undermining yourself, then?”

“Why you, Chase?”

“What?”

“You said there’s no atonement for you, no absolution but you’ve been given this chance as much as I have. We both can make a difference. You’re saying I can, why you cannot?” I wasn’t ready to answer that question. Despite the sudden bond that came to life between Kristine Prescott and me, the Kate Marsh topic was too sensitive to open.

“Bonkers. I’m not gonna lie, spending time with you is not as horrendous as I expected.” I joked. “Still, I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. I’ll be on my way.” The other thing was that If I didn’t intend to be homeless tonight, I needed to solve my housing situation quickly.

“You’re not taking advantage. Strong women support each other in the time of need. Even when they’re competitors.” She declared, and I finally started to get how her philosophy worked. Maybe if it weren’t for my cold, detached attitude, we could be friends from the very beginning. “Although I don’t wanna impose, I understand that you may prefer a piece of solitary of your own place.” She said with a soft and caring voice, so unusual for her. Maybe that’s why I crumbled again.

“I have no place.” It slipped my mouth.” I share a flat with my best friend who’s in love with the girl who broke my heart.”

“Oh, you moron! “Kristine hit my shoulder. “You should say. You can’t go back there. You ought to stay here for a while.””

“No, no, no way. I cannot.” I dismissed her suggestion even when it was actually an outstanding solution.

“Why not? I have a spare room,” she offered, “and we have potential. As two great women who can make a difference. Together.”

“Damn. Fine.” The tears were coming back, damn it. “Oh my, look at me. I’m rubbing elbows with Kristine Prescott. Who would have guessed?”

“Kris. Call me, Kris, will you?”

* * *

In the next few days, I came to the realisation that Kristine Prescott was actually a remarkable person. When there were no _penises_ around. In the no men environment, she felt no urge to prove she’s good enough, which made her a delightful companion. And the refuge in her apartment was a perfect safe house.

Thanks to Kris, I woke up every morning and made myself look like a human being. As a result of waking up every morning, I was able to focus on my studies to the point I wasn’t at risk to be expelled. But that was that. Anything else connected to the real world didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t even skyping with Jamie anymore. Always found some excuse, that wasn’t real at all. He must have a suspicion but thanks to the fucking José coach, he was on loan stuck in fucking China for the rest of the season. There was literally nothing he could do. So when I wasn’t obliged to do anything vital, I played Scrolls of War and when I couldn’t, I was checking the character builds, lore and everything related. It was a pleasant surprise, how easily the game numbed all the pain I felt. And then one day, I wasn’t that numb anymore. Something breached it. Something far away from pain. Someone.

Max Caulfield.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit off-topic perhaps, but I feel the urge to do this.
> 
> I’m not a fan of horror stories, not much into tv shows either, and I find kids in such stories incredibly creepy. Yet, I confess I haven’t resisted the temptation called [The Haunting of Bly Manor](https://www.imdb.com/title/tt10970552/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0). To be honest, it’s not perfect. It’s just perfectly splendid. And last time I cried like a baby because of some love story was five years ago when I finished LiS.
> 
> So, if you have time and opportunity, avoid every spoiler and go for it. I’m telling you, folks, it’s massive.


	17. Not Today

**Max Caulfield**

**Monday, March 11, Day 177, Year 1**

We were having lunch with Warren in the Academy cafeteria, and I caught myself staring at Victoria. For countless time in the last couple of days.

And as all these times there was food on her tray, but she didn’t touch it, yet. Neither looked like she desired to. Kristine, who was occupying the seat right next probably came to the same conclusion. According to their interaction, it seemed she was trying to convince her to eat. Eventually, Victoria had a few forkfuls of her salad, but it wasn’t much.

It’s been three weeks since she had ditched professor Heywood’s class with no explanation. She also hadn’t shown up in the gym since then. And became friends with Kristine. Oh, how weird. With Kristine freaking Prescott. I’d not say they had hated each other before. Actually their on and off rivalry had even transformed to silent respect perhaps but this? Kristine was totally watching over Victoria, who were showing only a little will to participate in everyday life.

Another thing that confirmed Warren’s assumption about break-up was Victoria’s Spotify. She didn’t call it a day if not listening to Fletcher’s Undrunk at least 20 times. She already had done 7 today. So her Spotify could be either weirdly jammed, unable to play another song. Or the thing with Steph indeed had been over, and it left her in shambles.

“So how’s the Forensic Chemistry class? Still teamed up with Victoria?” I asked Warren. I would expect him to know more about what was going on. Because the day before Victoria had left professor Heywood’s class, I’d found her in Warren’s dorm room. It had been strange Sunday morning. First, I had woken up all aroused after the most sexual dream I’ve ever had. In an urge to erase a memory of that dream, I had become all fired up to bury myself into the _Current perspectives of Forensic Psychology and Criminal Behaviour_ textbook. But it had been in Warren’s possession at the time being. My enthusiasm had been stronger than laziness, so I had walked ten minutes to boys’ dorms. Instead of Warren, I had found Victoria in his room wearing his t-shirt.

Yeah a lot of peculiar situations and encounters that included her had happened throughout the year. This one, though, had been a winner. The unfamous winner. My first dreaded theory had been a one-night stand. I immediately had felt sick about the thought Victoria had slept with Warren. But then I had noticed her puffy eyes and worn expression and excluded sex from her last activities. I presumed Warren could shed more light on the whole thing but was conflicted about digging deeper. What if the truth wasn’t exactly what I preferred to hear? What if Victoria was still in love with Steph. I was dying to know, yet fully aware of how ignorance being blessed sometimes.

“Max I don’t have Forensic chemistry this semester anymore, I took a photo lab. No Victoria in there.” Warren brought me back to the earth.

“Oh, okay.” I peeked towards Victoria again. Drew and Zachary stopped by their table, but Kristine shoved them off. And probably also used other persuasive methods on Victoria because she put one more forkful into her mouth. “So how’s Victoria doing. You’re friends, no?” I blurted. 

“I would be careful with a word friend. Victoria’s walls are too thick for that. I think. We’re acquaintances and even play Scrolls of War online together, now. As you know. You are there, too. With your fluffy Panda monk healer. So I believe I’m not any more of her friend than you are.” Warren smiled. I hadn’t approached Victoria directly, so far. Although our lives had been intertwining more and more. And there was no denying I was thrilled about the raise of our interactions. Actually, since Warren had brought her to Scrolls of Wars, we had been playing the game every night until wee hours. And he hadn’t been present much due to his new overly attached girlfriend. So I could easily start a chat with Victoria and didn’t have to ask Warren elusive questions. 

Part of me was trying to stick with the story where it was too soon, or in fact, there never will be the right time. Because I had been too gullible before when thinking I could actually do some kind of courtship.

The other part had a different view. As unusual and unbelievable as it sounded, this view of the situation was from the point where I wanted more of Victoria in my life. Where she could bring joy to my existence, and I could make her happy again.

Both stands divided the world of before from the world of now. And for my own sake, I should find out where the split lied. Better sooner than later. And come to a conclusion what I really sought for. I’ll write to her tonight. I’ll write to her and will see which part of me had more to say in this matter in direct confrontation with an issue that I had been avoiding for months. I decided. As if she knew what I was thinking, Victoria looked up from her salad, and her eyes meet mine. For the last three weeks, her behaviour only could be described as detached. Remote. She was here with us, yet she wasn’t. But at this very moment, I felt her mere presence even when there was a considerable distance between us. I sensed a question behind her look. What the question was, though, what the answer supposed to be? That I didn’t know. Therefore I responded with the sole action that has the potential to be the right one, no matter what. I smiled. And Victoria? She did the same. For the first time in three weeks, there was a life in her eyes, the smile on her face. And even when she was dragged away by Kristine, eventually, the hope her smile brought to me lingered.

“You like her, don’t you?” Warren’s words reminded me there were other people in the world, too, not only Victoria. I glanced at him and then back at the table where the girl he was asking about was sitting no longer. What could I say?

“I do,” I muttered, and the world around spun. Two simple words. “I do,” I repeated them louder for this time, more confident. Two simple words, still it felt like the most extraordinary accomplishment I’ve ever achieved.

“I can’t say I saw it coming, but who would blame you. She’s almost as amazing as you’re. “ I couldn’t miss the hint of sadness in what had been expressed. Warren might have a girlfriend now, in spite of that, his little platonic crush on me didn’t completely evaporate. „I dare to say you’d be perfect for each other.” He added, and the genuine praise overcame the sadness in no time. He cared about me that much, he’d be happy if I was happy even when with someone else.

“Just don’t say to Victoria, will you?” I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently as the silent understanding between us settled. “Not that I’m amazing, it’s cool to say that. But the other matter that I like her, ‘tis not. It should be me who reveal this little secret.”

Warren just nodded and softly stroked my hand that was holding his shoulder. He was such a great guy and me a one lucky girl having him in my life.

* * *

I kicked the door to my dorm room and had to do a lot of convincing. I should take a shower first. It was that kind of day when humidity was off the chart, and one doesn’t have to do more than breathing to sweat like a pig. And even when Victoria won’t be able to see me or scent me or anything I weirdly desired to be in proper shape. After a quick refreshing shower, I put black shorts and a comfy tank top on and turned the laptop on. 

I swear I haven’t played so much Scrolls of War since I had decided to apply for Academy, almost three years ago. Every now and then when Warren was in the mood, surely. But it had been becoming less and less since he was dating this super jealous girl Brooke. But from the day he had brought Victoria into the game three weeks ago, I had spent all my nights stuck to the computer. And so had she. Despite the possibility to chat, there hadn't been any real conversation going on between two of us. Except for the suggestions what quest we're going to take. When Warren had been around, he put on a speaker and talked either to me or to her, or to himself mostly. Occasionally we both reacted to his rambling with a message. Still, there had been no exchange solely between Victoria and me. 

There was no reason to expect she won’t show up. She was playing every night for three weeks. Nonetheless, I was unable to rid of the gnawing discomfort of the possibility she will skip our gaming session. My courage could easily falter if waiting another day. Also, I supposed her not showing up, would have only one explanation. In that case, it would mean she was happy again spending her night with much better activity than playing video games. With a person who wasn’t me.

I launched the Scrolls of War, and... she was online. There was no going back. 

_V_Vanished: Bleak valley, tonight?_

She wrote at once. But I’d made a promise. So Bleak valley had to wait.

NO_FUTURE4ME: _Sounds good to me but, first…_

I teleported to the meeting point and spotted her character. The undead rogue. He was slowly becoming an icon on the server. And scarier and scarier every level up. 

NO_FUTURE4ME: _I’ve never thanked you for you know…. for taking care of me when PTSD hit. I should probably talk to you sooner but…_

On the screen, the undead rogue V_Vanished walked towards my monk healer and then stood idly. Probably waiting if my babble will continue.

NO_FUTURE4ME: _We were strangers back then, and it was kind of personal and It would be weird to… I mean we are still strangers, but hey I already saw you kill your first Behemoth, so..._

The message popped up before I sorted my thoughts.

_V_Vanished: It’s cool, really, I didn’t do much. Just called your girlfriend. She took care of you._

It wasn’t true. First of all, Rachel wasn’t my girlfriend, and she also told me what had happened. Victoria had been with me at least for an hour before she arrived. Yet she refused to take any credit.

_V_Vanished: So bleak valley?_

Another message popped up when I didn't write anything back in a reasonable time, and the undead rogue turned away from the monk healer. I found the courage to finally write to her, so there was no way I was going to drop it.

NO_FUTURE4ME: _How did you know what I was going through? And how to help?_

 _V_Vanished:_ _Dad has PTSD._

A reply came after the moment, and the undead rogue moved again. My curiosity wasn’t satisfied, though.

NO_FUTURE4ME: _And talking about football is a universal way to refocus distracted minds, isn’t it?_

_V_Vanished: There is an Oranjes scarf wrapped around the rear mirror of your VW._

She noticed. My eyes slid down from the screen to my forearms pressed to the table and saw the fine hair standing up. There were so many questions swirling around my head. How she contacted Rachel? What happened with Steph? There were so many things I had misjudged according to her and yearned for her to confirm it. And I also couldn’t choose where to start, though. 

_V_Vanished: You don’t have to worry, Max. I didn’t tell anyone about it and I won’t. It’s nobody’s business. Now let’s slay some demonic harlots._

It was a reasonable thing to do, although my fingers were queens of the keyboard and decided otherwise.

NO_FUTURE4ME: _Who’s Kate?_

The second I saw my message on the screen I knew I overstepped. The consecutive minutes that felt like an eternity only confirmed my lack of tact. When there was no response after tormenting nine minutes, I thought she was done with me. The only spark of hope came from her still online status. Which could also bring some elongated message on how I should fucking mind my own business. When the clock struck 20:59 a message mayhem started.

_V_Vanished: The girl I bullied in high school._

_V_Vanished: She was weak. Didn’t stand up for herself, not once._

_V_Vanished: Now I know how imbecile it was to pick on her. How wretched and stupid I was back then. And wrong._

_V_Vanished: I’m sorry about the meltdown in front of you._

_V_Vanished: As more than a bit shook as you seemed in the first week, I saw you as a target of a bully, and it threw me over the edge._

_V_Vanished: I underestimated you and thought you were susceptible to harm and defenceless. And I was angry that you willingly and absolutely recklessly put yourself into the position where you could be vulnerable and harmed._

_V_Vanished: Which technically means I was angry with my high school bitchy self and horrible attitude towards those who had no balls to stand up for themselves._

_V_Vanished: So again, I’m sorry. I was wrong. You’re one of the most resilient and dedicated people I know, and I think you’ll be a great police officer._

Bonkers. I reread those messages, so many times, I was unable to count. And when the other one came, I realised a good fifteen minutes passed.

_V_Vanished: And I totally understand you don’t consider me as a suitable sidekick, anymore._

_V_Vanished: It was an honour to play with you, Max Caulfield._

“What? What? Fuck, no, no, no. Don’t go anywhere!” I screamed at the screen and sent the reply immediately.

NO_FUTURE4ME: _Bleak valley?_

NO_FUTURE4ME: _Let’s slay some demonic harlots._

_V_Vanished: Lead the way._

And another night, we met again in the world of Scrolls of War. And so the next one. And the next. And every subsequent night we played less and chatted more. I didn’t ask about Kate again. I didn’t ask about Steph, even if I was dying to. Or brought up my PTSD episode she had witnessed. Although she told me lots of things. Some fluffy ones. Like what ice-cream she liked or why pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza. And some more serious. About her dad. How he, as a Times Weekly correspondent, had gotten stuck in the middle of the Iraq-Iran war in the '80s and experienced something he never talked about. And about how this man always happy and cheerful became a total mess when her brother Jamie broke the window with football. How the broken glass triggered him. And also she totally got me with the story about the ex-wife of her footballer brother. I actually googled all of those old tabloid articles and kind of desired to strangle that bitch with duck face and ugly silicon breasts. We also shared the excitement about how… well, William Blake would say: 

To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour…

And all of this could be captured by one perfect shot. Victoria loved to capture the bodies in motion. I prefered an idly occurrences from as many different angles as it got. And it wasn't the only thing I didn’t hesitate to reveal. I told her about how Rachel taught me how to shoot a firearm. And about how Grandpa Joe let me drive his steamroller when I was six. Or how he took me to the women's football game when I was seven. And gave me his old-school camera on my 8th birthday. 

And then after another month passed, on April 15 it had been 20 whole days in the row when Victoria didn’t listen to Fletcher’s Undrunk once. And when we met in the evening, we actually didn’t do any playing. Just let the undead rogue and the monk healer stand in front of the tavern in The city of eternal light when Victoria and I chatted until midnight. Although even when we have been meeting every evening sitting behind our laptops in those four weeks, we never had any conversation through the day. In-person. In reality. At school. And Max Caulfield from the past, from the time before the Academy would probably haven't mustered the will to change it. I wasn’t that Max anymore, however.

_V_Vanished: Goodnight epic healer. Tomorrow same time in the evening? Can’t wait, you’ll keep me a company again._

NO_FUTURE4ME: _You know I am Max Caulfield, your classmate, don’t you? You can actually talk to me through the day, too. And be in my company._

_V_Vanished: Max, oh, Max._

_V_Vanished: As if you ever dared to approach me. :)_

NO_FUTURE4ME: _I’m an introvert. I do not approach people. Usually, I just happen to be somewhere without knowing how. That’s how people meet me._

_V_Vanished: Yeah, it seems like that. :)_

_V_Vanished: You know, this year, as always I’ve made a lot of questionable decisions._

_V_Vanished: And some of them let me torn apart. Desolate._

_V_Vanished: Then you appeared. Just happened to be here._

_V_Vanished: You’ve just been here next to me in this weird virtual word riding your odd turtle with Panda Monk Healer._

_V_Vanished: And even when you didn’t say a word at first, suddenly I didn’t feel so lonely anymore._

_V_Vanished: And then we started to chat more and play less, and thanks to you, I had something I was actually looking forward to doing again._

_V_Vanished: So thank you, Max, for pulling me through those difficult times._

_V_Vanished: But I am by no means eligible to intrude the part of your world where I don’t belong._

NO_FUTURE4ME: _You’re part of the Academy as much as I am. There will be no intruding going on._

_V_Vanished: That’s not what I talked about, Max. You haven’t let anyone in, yet and it’s been eight months. And maybe it’s actually the best thing. To not let anyone in._

_V_Vanished: And maybe I also feel pretty safe in here. In this virtual world. And don’t want to leave it. Goodnight._

I was in a desperate need to deconfuse my brain from the state, her words brought. Before I could, Victoria went offline. 

**Max Caulfield**

**Thursday, April 16** , **Day 213, Year 1**

After my classes for today were over, I stopped in the library because Thursday was the day when the newest print of Forensic Journal was coming out. Of course, the online version could be sent to me, but there was something appealing about the actual copy you could touch. Something real. With the physical copy in my bag, I made my way out of the Academy building. All of my classmates decided to prolong their time at Academy premises, I noticed. On the green in front of it. The boys and Dana were playing frisbee. Kristine was sitting on the grass shoulder to shoulder with Victoria in the company of the introduction to criminal justice textbook. For the moment I thought maybe I could join them. Eight months ago, these seven people had been giving an impression they had nothing in common. Recently it seemed like they always belonged together. And even when I went along with them more and more smoothly, it was hard to tell if I belonged, too.

“See ya tomorrow, guys.” Thus I only wave them goodbye when walking by. 

“Hey, kitty,” Zach shouted. “Come play with us,” and tossed the frisbee my way. 

“I-I…” I caught it clumsily, my brain was working hard on an excuse why I couldn’t.

“I’m done.” I heard Kristine behind me. “No more law bulshit. Give it to me, Max. I’m going to show these tossers how to throw this thing.” She clapped the heavy book, put it in her bag and stole the flying disc from my possession. I was free to leave now. I didn’t move, though. Victoria was less than a meter from me. The rest of our classmates engaged in a frisbee game, so technically we could have a private conversation. I shuddered at the thought. Yeah, goosebumps were back. 

“If you don’t plan to join that silliness there is a vacant spot right here.” I turned and saw her patting the grass next to her.

“I-I…” I stuttered again. _Great job, Max! You have a big mouth when online, but in the real world, you just stutter like some ill uneducated peasant girl._

“You’re no fan of frisbee. Well me neither. Football’s better, anyway.” Victoria joked.

“Only when girls are playing. Men’s football sucks. They’re overpaid and can’t stand on their feet for 30 seconds in a row.” I grinned, too and found a place next to her. 

We’ve been classmates for eight months. Still, this was actually our first real conversation ever (not online). If I wasn’t counting PTSD occurrence, where I had been lost in the past not aware she was there with me and that strange interaction first week in here, where she had looked like being somewhere else, too. With Kate. Her eyes had been bleary, her voice sharp. It felt like a different lifetime. Now, there was only tenderness emanating from her. The same warmth that had brought me back to reality when PTSD had seemed to be too much to handle. I was terrified of the awkwardness the prolong silence could cause, so I went back to that day.

“I know I’m repeating myself but thank you for, well for--”

“You are. You’ve already thanked me, and it’s nothing, really. I just called your girlfriend, that’s nothing heroic about that.”

“Rachel is just a friend, not a girlfriend,” I assured Victoria. She opened her mouth and then closed them. And then she focused on something interesting in the grass below her feet. 

“Her loss.” She murmured eventually. And blushed? Nah, just the heat of the warm May day. That was it, wasn’t it?

“You must be insane when you think it’s someone’s loss they’re not my girlfriend.” It wasn’t probably the best thing to say when one wanted to impress a girl. But again, I had no idea how to do this. And actually with her around I felt like sharing, anything, everything, like being completely honest.

“Why? Are you a cheater? Hysterical? You snore? Do your farts smell badly?” She looked up with a mischievous grin on her face.

I laughed. “No. None of it, silly.” Did Victoria really engage a word fart into her speech? She was soooo different from what I had thought about her initially. I would not mind telling her about Elliot. Or about Chloe, about how I’ve never actually connected with anyone (except Rachel) because of those things of my past. But this world of mine had been changing from the moment I had met her for the first time. As it had never happened before it came out as tricky to find a clue where to start, or guess if this was the right moment. Or if she was even interested in any of it.

“All right then, keep your secret.”

Victoria teased after I was overthinking about my answer without making any sound. Was it really a secret, though after what she had seen? Before I spoke, I laid down, soaking the soft grass. “According to Rachel, you were with me the whole time and pulled me through the madness, so there is no secret to you anymore. You saw first hand how damaged I am.” I sensed Victoria’s body lying next to mine. And goosebumps. Maybe I should have renamed this physical state of my body to Victoria-bumps because recently, it was only connected to her presence or actions.

“You’re not damaged. We all have terrible flaws.” She said promptly. “I know I do. Besides, your _flaw_ is not really a flaw. You’ve overcome an impossible situation, and it made you stronger.”

I rolled to my side. She was breathtaking. When she turned too, and our faces were in the incredibly intimate distance, I almost couldn’t believe this was real. The touch of May’s sun, the smell of freshly cut grass and Victoria and I having a conversation about our flaws.

“So what is your terrible flaw, Victoria Chase,” I asked.

From the moment she had turned to me, it’d been clear she was expecting this question, yet she was struggling until she finally spoke. “I was ignorant of the world. And my terrible choices have done irreparable damage.” Her eyes were filled with almost unbearable sadness.

Was she talking about what she had done to the Kate girl? Or about how things ended between her and Steph? Was it still important when indeed the word WAS clearly suggested it had been in the PAST? And even if she wouldn’t say WAS I didn’t doubt she wasn’t ignorant of the world, anymore. She could leave me be when I had been losing myself because of PTSD. She could vote for Trevor’s photo and beat me in the challenge, yet she had voted for my pic. She could let Kristine do her stupid bank robbery scenario in professor Heywood class. Instead, she had made it happened that I’d been a lead. Again, it took me too long to react. I wasn’t used to talking, to form my ideas in such a short time. Writing has always suited me better than speaking. She interpreted my lack of words as a lack of understanding, perhaps because her pretty face became upset, and she was about to stand up and leave.

“I better g--” No, she mustn’t. I reached for her forearm. I didn’t break the touch even when it was clear she’s staying. Insane. I still didn’t know what to say, but that rainy day had created a bond between us. Or maybe the connection had already been there, and it just made me see it. I couldn’t stop looking into her beautiful green eyes. The sadness was fading. I had no idea what she was thinking, but I was reliving all those rare moments we had shared through the year, now seeing them in a completely different light.

“I approve one of your choices greatly,” I admitted. “You chose to help me when I was having a meltdown. You chose to call the only person in the world who could fix the mess without any damage left. If I was taken to the hospital, if my parents knew, if--”

“Hey,” she elevated my touch to full hand-holding. I kept up with the move and relished our interlaced fingers at once. “I’m sure you’d make it without my help. It’ll be more complicated, but I’m sure you’d manage. You’d calmed down, call Rachel by yourself. There is no doubt.”

Once more, she praised me where it was she who did the job. “How do you even… know, I mean, you did everything right.”

“Observation, deduction and such. That detective stuff.” She said softly.

“Oh, come on, tell me more.” I squeezed her hand gently.

“Well, I already told you about the football scarf. And about Rachel, I only saw you briefly with her, but you were a completely different person when we met you in front of dorms. You enjoyed yourself, didn’t hold anything back, no uptight demeanour. I had no clue who she was, except for the fact she must be a person extremely close to you, but Steph did. She recognised her as an actress. It took some effort to remember how Steph called her, but once I did, I was fortunate because there was only one Rachel in your contact list.”

She mentioned Steph and...

That name was connected with a lot of peculiar emotions. Because of Steph, I had gotten the first hint Victoria wasn’t straight. It had probably been the point when the utter control of my affection towards her started to faint. But there was also another side of the coin. Steph and Victoria had been an item. I had no idea how their relationship ended or if Victoria could be still in love with her. Again I couldn’t form my thoughts into the proper words, so I shifted and laid on my back, never breaking the touch. We stayed like this for a moment. Or an eternity. And I would keep going if possible. Because it was like heaven.

“What are you thinking?” Victoria stroked the back of my hand softly.

Her. I was thinking about her. About how probably everything that I had thought about her initially wasn’t true. Her love for dicks, her arrogance, her unawareness of me. Could I say it without revealing I was weirdly obsessed with her from Day 1? Almost every interaction from those few we shared throughout the year, nearly every single one had nudged me the right way. Made me a person who I was now—the best of our class. I craved to know so much about her. “Why did you decide to apply for this program?” And I hoped this question was a safe bet for the beginning without the risk to impose.

This time it was her who took her time “I look hot in uniform.” She turned to me, and repeated her answer from Day 1, lying on her side. What a coward, I thought. A sexy coward.

“You look hot in everything.” I chuckled and did the same, so we faced again. “You would look hot in a garbage collector outfit, yet you didn’t become a garbage collector.”

“You think I’m hot? Are you flirting with me, Max Caulfield?”

“N-no. Of course not.” Of course, I was. I was actively flirting with someone for the first time ever and enjoying it. Wowser. What happened to the world? “You’re not only one with advanced _detective stuff_. I can observe too, find and analyse the evidence. Your physical appearance and your choice of wardrobe meet most of the standards for exquisite beauty widely accepted in contemporary society.” I concluded in the most flirty tone I could produce.

“I could object. Maybe I should.” She faked smugness for a short moment but then became solemn. “Such an approach would meet the standards of other unreal constructs of contemporary society. But it would be a fake modesty. Besides my looks is not something I earned, it was given to me.” She acknowledged and bit her lower lip. “I’m curious,“ and blushed. She definitely blushed this time, “what are your standards for exquisite beauty.”

Was she flirting back? Did she ask If I found her attractive? I definitely did. But I didn’t plan to reveal my cards so easily. “Maybe I tell you if you tell me your real reasons to be here.” I teased.

“One day, perhaps.” She lost a bit of her playfulness. 

It didn’t discourage me. “Not today?”

“Not today.” Although she wasn’t ready, yet.

“Are you coming, Vic?” Kristine shouted and broke this little spell we created.

“Yeah.” Said Victoria but didn’t move a bit. “See ya in the evening?” She asked.

“You, bet.” I smiled. Our hands parted when we stood up, but our eyes lingered another moment.

“Bye, Max. And don’t hesitate to hang out with us more often. We don’t bite.” Kristine linked her arm with Victoria’s and stole her from me for good. I unconsciously reached for my hand and massaged the scar on the side. The hand Victoria had been holding not long ago. Usually, it was a source of suffering. When the weather was shit, when my mind was unrest, the pain always started to seep from this part of my body.

But, not today.

I caressed the place and for the lack of words to describe how it felt, because no single word could adequately explain the shift in me, I’d say it was the absolute opposite of pain that was spreading through my reality. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fletcher’s Undrunk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhY_ZPzz5JU) is real.
> 
> The Scrolls of War isn’t.
> 
> And it pains me to say this, but I’m not sure how long I’m gonna be able to keep up with once a week updates.
> 
> As the story evolves, editing takes more and more time, because I’m a sucker for having everything connected. And because English is not my first language. So, I guess everything takes me at least twice as much as it would to the native speaker. And also recently I feel like I hit a wall.
> 
> I’m rereading what I have written, and I’m not sure anymore if it makes sense. If the investigation is depicted, the way the reader will understand what is going on. If the ups and downs for Max and Victoria aren’t repetitive. If the whole narrative isn’t just some forgettable piece of shit. And I pretty much understand you as a reader can’t care less about my creative block. You’re here for LiS sensation, not for the author who cannot straighten up. If this story doesn’t do it for you, another one will.
> 
> But if you find a little something in this one, let me tell you one thing. I can promise, it's gonna be finished. I already have the last chapter, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep regular updates (probably once in two weeks).
> 
> In the meantime, thanks for reading, for every little comment, those especially keeps me going. Thank you ever so much for enjoying this ride with me. You’re the best!


	18. The more you’ll run…

**Victoria Chase**

**Thursday, April 16** , **Day 213, Year 1**

“So. You and Max Caulfield.” Kristine asserted when Max and the rest of our group were left far behind us. I would brush her off, but that conceited expression on her face was a clear sign she needed to be brought back to earth with a more radical method than a simple brush.

“Don’t,” I said with my most bitchy voice. 

“Who would have guessed?” She shook her head, theatrically. “Except your weird meltdown in the first week, you had literally zero interactions. Zero. Nul. Nada.” She even unlinked our arms and raised both of her hands like she surrendered to a totally unexpected assailant. “And I thought she has a thing with a geek boy.”

“Seriously, don’t.”

I’ve been living in Kris’ apartment for two months, and she has been nothing but a great friend to me for the whole time. Practically perfect replacement for Taylor. When it was necessary, she let me to my misery, when I was about to brood too much, she pulled me back from the dark side. All the time, she mostly kept her opinions to herself. Also to my liking she didn’t try to distract me with reciting all the penis’ nicknames she knew, anymore. Although Kristine Prescott was the famous Ms Eloquent. Somehow, I knew she would vent sooner or later. It was definitely expected. Her telling me I should bounce back, stop being stuck to a laptop the whole night playing a stupid video game or go party with her and hook up with some hottie. If she brought any of that, I would totally get her. But dragging Max Caulfield into this was absolutely out of place, wasn’t it?

“And now, you’re holding hands. Oh, how sweeeet. I smell the love in the air. Or at least wild sex.” She chuckled like a twelve-year-old teenager, daydreaming about her favourite K-pop group.

“You’re out of your mind, Kris. We just had a small talk.”

“About how lost you are in her eyes?”

I wasn’t lost in Max’s eyes. I was far far past from desiring anything like that. Kristine was over-dramatic as always. We were just two acquaintances who played Scrolls of War together. 

_Were you though? That’s why the hand she held a while ago was still tingling with sensation?_

Damn, it wasn’t tingling, I ordered my brain to banish the thought. I needed to remember that “my heart was ripped from my chest and stomped on only a couple of weeks ago. Do you think I’m that stupid, Kris? Do you think I would risk it again? Never.”

Especially not with Max Caulfield. Yes, she wasn’t together with Rachel, the actress, but she basically said, she’s not interested in dating anyone. After all my previous failures, she should be the last girl in the universe I’m gonna be interested in. She had been that girl from the very very beginning, damn it! And I had known the whole time. Our unexpected acquaintance couldn't change that.

“Oh, dear, oh, dear.” Kris pulled me inside our tram that just arrived and gave me a sympathetic look I detested immediately. “Love and attraction are always stupid. Crazy, irrational. But fighting it is even more foolish than succumbing.”

“Do you drama if you must, “I smirked, “but nor am I attracted to somebody neither in love. Period. And I do not plan a change of heart.”

“You’d be surprised how the heart can always have a plan of its own.” She added, but I didn’t care. Everything about this matter was pretty settled in my head. Yeah, I was weirdly attracted to Max, but I could keep it under control. So, she and I had the potential to be great friends. If she’ll be able to go past the fact, I bullied a girl to the point she slit her wrists. And that was it. Friendship. Nothing more. 

**Victoria Chase**

**Sunday, May 24, Day 251, Year 1**

_“Oh, it was brutal, but that son of the bitch is finally down.”_ Max gushed after we slew the gruesome creature. _“By the way, you look hot in that new gear set.”_

“Oh, and I thought you prefer the exquisite beauty of delicate female form.” I teased adjusting the headphones. It really had been a thought fight, and they almost slid down when I had been focused on the screen hitting the keyboard like a psycho. “You finally show your true colours. Lusting after this forsaken rogue who rose into undeath. According to how sexy you looked in that radiant outfit of your own I’d expected you to have a better taste.”

_“Seriously, Vic? I’m Panda. I’m not sexy in anything, by any means. You’re either trying to flatter me because I saved your hot ass at least dozens of times. Or it’s you who had weird tastes when lusting after Panda.”_

I had to laugh. It was so easy to hang out with her. Lying on this comfy couch stuck to the laptop playing Scrolls or Wars was simple and enjoyable. No socialising, no meeting new people, no risk of falling for the wrong girl again. I had only one concern. That my Undead rogue is going to be taken down. Which was nearly impossible. He was that sneaky looking sort. And Max’s Monk, my loyal sidekick, was the best freaking healer on the server. So yeah, I didn’t plan to join real life in the full-time mode anytime soon, if this was an option. Although our interactions with Max out there, in reality, weren't anything unusual anymore. Mostly school-related. Like when we have been paired together on self-defence class or spent tons of time in the library studying for the Law exam. First, I had been a bit cautious about how it all could turn out, the transition from virtuality to reality. But so far, everything went pretty smoothly.

“Yeah, whatever. Listen, Max. It’s only five to eleven. I think we can do Forsaken caverns, too. Whatcha think? Is your Panda hottie ready for some more fight?”

_“I’d love to, but it’s Sunday night, remember? The scheduled server maintenance is going to start in a few.”_

Fuck, she was right. I forgot. It was time to say goodnight, then. If I didn’t plan to let my eagerness to take over. Which I definitely didn’t. Everything was better when the only time I felt an excess of emotion was while playing the video game.

“Alright, then, Super Max. Sleep well, when you do.”

_“You too, Vic. See ya tomorrow.”_ I watched her status change to offline and didn’t bother to turn off the laptop. I just unplugged the headphones, clapped it and put both items away on the coffee table. And lied back down, sinking into the couch. I closed my eyes and replayed the whole dungeon. The creepy rotting guardians, electro basilisk, Max’s awesome healing combo. Those were the only thoughts I allowed myself to have. 

“You like her. Like, like her.” The leather above my head screeched under someone’s weight.

“Geez, Prescott. Go bother someone else.” Kris, in her Powerpuff girls' pyjama, the only piece of her garderobe that wasn’t black, joined me. Armed with the chocolate ice-cream, she decided now was a great time to give me lectures. “The Drew drama isn’t enough to keep you occupied?”

“You love the lips.” She sang. I hoped mentioning Drew would wash away her playful mood, but it didn’t.

“Sod off.” I sat up swiftly and snatched the ice-cream. “I do not like Max. Not like that.”

“You were flirting with her.” Her lips smacked a couple of times, imitating the kissing sound.

“You were eavesdropping or what?” I hit her shoulder lightly.

“Ouch.” She stroke the place like Xena’s chakram meet it not my feeble fist. What a drama queen. “It was kind of hard to miss. Your loud, enthusiastic flirting.” She grunted.

Her suggestion was ridiculous. I wasn’t flirting with Max. I knew better than that. Although I understood Kris had her own issues with Drew, she couldn’t solve at the moment. So, she needed a distraction. But sticking her nose into my relations--- Sticking her nose into my life was overstepping.

“We were playing a game and talking about tactics.” I kept my cool. For a little while longer.

“Yeaaah. Same as on Friday. In Self-defence claaass.”

“Stop!”

“You wanted to kiss her when she pinned you to that wall,” I remembered the Self-defence class. Professor Jiwe had had a call 30 minutes before it had ended. She had needed to leave because of some official business. But she had told us, we are not allowed to leave the premises and had suggested we practise for the rest of the class by ourselves. “And she wanted to kiss you as much.” Kristine put a big chunk of ice-cream into her mouth.

“No.” Said my mouth, but I felt myself shiver. On Friday we had been messing around just having fun. Practising impossible situations. One of those had me being a cop and Max being a criminal. I had been about to handcuff her. But she had escaped and pinned me to the wall stealing a fake knife from my gear. _You’re dead,_ she’d said pressing it on my neck softly. _Best dead ever._ I’d muttered staring at her lips only an inch from mine. Fuck. I had wanted to kiss her, oh I had. Who I was trying to fool?

“She likes you.” After the ice-cream was neutralised, Kristine had some more wisdom to share.

The wisdom I didn’t care about. Because it wasn’t true.

“Max doesn’t like me.”

“So, you either like her back or, “she licked the spoon and dared to challenge me some more, “you’re leading her on. Take your pick.”

“She doesn't… I-I’m not... I am not…” This was insane. The memories of our recent interactions spammed through my mind. How Max never missed the opportunity to praise my look. Always in a subtle thoughtful way. How she didn’t restrain from touching me as often as it got. And suddenly I felt the palm of Max’s hand on my back remembering how she had caught up with me on my way to library the other way. I sensed her slender fingers tucking the stray of hair behind my ears when I had gotten too focused on the textbook. I relived the sensation of Max’s arms around my shoulders when we, as a team, had won one of professor’s Heywood regular quizzes. I had revelled those moments, but my numbness had prevented me from thinking much of it. Had been the line between friendship and affection crossed? What had felt like an act of kindness before brought a heat now a tremor in my lower belly. _Fuck!_ This wasn’t supposed to happen. It won’t. I won’t ruin my chance for friendship with Max by my stupid infatuation, that I knew.

“What’s your agenda, Kris?” I rolled my eyes being full of frustration.

“Vic,” she switched to a serious tone, “the more you’re going to run from it the harder it’s going to bite you, eventually. Just sayin’.”

“I’m not running from anything. Max neither seeks a relationship nor a romance. She told me. And that’s it. We are friends. I would say it is you from two of us, who’s running.”

She overlooked the Drew reference again and turned the attention to me. “You two were flirting all evening and you haven’t even realised, have you? All you and Max do in the last couple of weeks is relishing each other company. And the lust in her eyes every time she’s looking at you bears a clear message. I don’t understand how it is still undelivered to your usually witty mind. Max Caulfied is head over heels with you, Victoria.” Even if Kristine wasn’t overdramatic as always, it would be too soon, too much. The numbness I had created after Steph situation had been fading. But fortunately, it was still there, and it helped to keep my wits about myself.

“Kris,” I reached for her hand. The one who wasn’t stuffing her mouth with ice-cream. “Do you understand that desperately trying to hook me with someone is not going to move karmic balance or whatever and it will not magically fix issues you have with Drew?”

“I’m not fixing any freaking balance and not trying to hook you with someone.” She was about to crack very soon, I could tell. The desperation was seeping through her voice. “I’m trying to open your eyes.” Yet, she continued with vigour. “To see there something going on between you and Max Caulfield. Something worth trying.”

“Nothing is going on. And I’m done trying, okay? No more trying, no more heartbreaks. Besides, Max is not attracted to me. We are just friends. But it doesn’t mean you and Drew can’t--” Crack. Yep, it came even sooner than I expected.

“He lied to his mother of who I am.” Kristine cried. “And she’s already looking at me through her fingers because I’m not of Surinam descent. If she knew we are dating or I’m also Prescott, she’ll do voodoo doll of me and throw it into the fire. How can you go past that?”

“Put the ice-cream down,” I said softly.

“What?”

“Just put the ice-cream down, will you?” She was confused but did what I asked, eventually. 

“Now come’re.” I pull her to my arms. She was happy to oblige. “We’ll figure it out, okay. You’re dating him, not her. We’ll figure it out.”

Last Wednesday, Kristine had come with a surprise, two tickets for the KNVB Cup finals. Drew had dismissed because of other plans, and he had refused to elaborate. Kristine had kind of stalked him, and her suspicion had been right. She had bumped into him being with another woman—his mother. Drew introduced Kristine as his classmate and _friend._ Miss Momma politely greeted Drew’s _friend_ and a bit impolitely suggested Drew should hang out more with his own kind (a.k.a. non-whites). The thing was Drew’s mother never wanted to leave Surinam in the first place. When his parents had divorced, she had gone back and only visited Drew rarely. Every time she did, she didn’t miss the opportunity to remind him, he should go back too.

“You won tonight,” Kris mumbled into the crook of my neck a bit more composed. “But once I’m un-saddened we are back on the Max train.”

“Oh, I’m not afraid.” I chuckled stroking her back. “Once you’re _un-saddened,_ it will be because you’ll be riding some wild… horse. The horse, of course. You’ll be back on the horse. So, my petty non-existent love life will have no significance to you anymore.”

“Victoria Chase, how dare you--”

My phone rang. One quick look on the coffee table revealed it was Drew. I wasn’t debilitated by a sudden sadness, thus I was nimbler and more capable and reached it before Kristine could dismiss the call.

“Hi, Drew.” I leaned closer on purpose so she could hear the other side, too.

_“Hi, Vic. Listen I’m sorry for calling so late, but Kris told me, you’re rarely going to bed before midnight. Is she still awake by the way?”_

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s not sleeping, yet.” Kristine sent daggers my way. 

_“Could you please tell her to turn on her phone?”_

“And you really believe she’ll do what someone else asks her to do?”

“ _No. Of course, not. Could you, by any chance, get into her proximity and put a phone on the speaker.”_

“No, no, no, no.” Kristine protested mutely, displeased with the thought Drew would know she’s listening. 

“Yeah, no problem.” I jumped from the couch, so she couldn’t stop me. “It’s on. She hears you, now.”

_I hate you,_ Kristine mouthed. _Karma is a bitch_ was my silent reaction. Then Drew spoke.

_“Hi, Kris. I-I’ve missed you. And I also told my mom we are together… ...like you know, like a couple. And she told me I’m wasting my life. And… ...and I didn’t say anything back, but you know what I think about that Kris? About wasting my life?”_

Kristine didn’t say a word just shrugged trying to look as much uninterested as it got. To our surprise, Drew started to sing. And honestly, I had no clue why he had chosen a carrier of a police officer after he couldn't do competitive sport anymore. Because what he was capable of doing with his voice, it was pure bliss.

_So take the good stuff, honey_

_That money just won't buy_

_Spend it up, up however we like_

_Take the good stuff, honey_

_That money just won't buy_

_Don't try to save us 'cause we're doing it right_

_We are, we are the wasted youth_

_It's my life, If I'm gonna waste it I waste it on you_

“Give it to me.” Kristine snatched the phone and turned the speaker off. “You, you… I hate you. And I love you. And I need some time to figure out how much. Of both. So, speak some more. Or sing. Or whatever.” She disappeared into her room. I made a mental note to thank Drew. He saved me from lots of _good_ advice I definitely didn’t need at the moment. What I needed was a shower, bed and falling asleep before my brain decides to engage in Kristine’s deranged theories.

When back from the shower, I found her sitting on my bed with the phone still stuck to her ear. But it was hers, not to mine, anymore. 

“Wait a moment, hun.” She fetched me my own cell when I joined her. “Max texted you. Like four times or such.” My face scrunched. “No worries, I didn’t look.” She reassured me and left.

23:23 Max: I really like those burgundy shoes of yours. 

23:28 Max: Those that make your legs even more exquisite. Unexpected for something that is already perfect. 

23:29 Max: Anyway. Do they have any special name? Like Christian Cartier’s Cinderella slippers. Or perhaps Christian Vuitton’s (?) passion shoes?

I stared at the screen until it went dark. It was so Max. The messages. It didn’t make any sense. At first. But then, it was impossible to not find it adorable. I put a phone down on the nightstand and snuck into the blanket. Yet, the warmness I had felt a moment ago was fading. Foolish Kristine and her absurd speculations. I shunned them and turned my back to the nightstand. Maybe for like 30 seconds. Then I spun around and grabbed the cell.

23:53 Victoria: Dior. His name is Christian Dior, and he's not making any shoes, just bags. And dresses. And other expensive stuff that are not shoes. 

23:54 Victoria: Anyway, are you subtly asking me to go shopping with you and pick new shoes? Does the time come when you’re about to replace your boring Converses with something more stylish? 

23:54 Victoria: Oh, my, of course, I’m ready to help. And so excited.

I teased her. She didn't reply. It was late. She probably fell asleep. I tried to convince myself I wasn’t disappointed. Successfully. But a little while after I woke up, when I was done with my morning hygiene and breakfast, I heard the notification about the new text. And the warmth was back. 

7:31 Max: Oh, how very Victoria Chase-like. You didn’t bother to answer my question.

7:31 Max: And you’re also nuts. I’ll rather walk on the broken glass barefoot than rid of my canvas and wear some insane heels instead. Heels are your privilege.

7:32 Victoria: Max Caulfield’s favourite burgundy slippers. 

7:32 Victoria: Satisfied?

I answered her initial question with a smile plastered on my face. Which became even bigger when she replied.

7:32 Max: Very

To complement the shoes that appealed to Max, I picked grey fitting skirt and burgundy shirt. Everything was in place, the colours correlating together just perfect. The balance between frivolous and being unattainable was settled just right. Will it also serve me right, eventually? As the last adjustment to my flawless presentation, I sprinkled a small amount of aromatic liquid to the base of my throat and my inner wrists. I loved the scent. Euphoria was indeed an appropriate name for the perfume that was my favourite for years. I snuck a little bottle to my purse right next to the sour candies. I didn’t like sour candies, but since Max PTSD incident I always have some with me. I had never thought much of it, but now it got me willies. She indeed did mean a lot to me, didn’t she?

Before leaving the room, I stood still for a moment in front of the mirrored sliding doors of the closet. I looked astonishing, there was no need to be modest. The times when dark circles under my eyes had been bigger than my will to leave a bed in the morning had been long gone. And the black hoodie with the large cape that had been my everyday companion for weeks also forsaken somewhere in the dark corner of the closet.

Yeah, I was able to make myself look impeccable again, but that by no means proved I was ready to fully join the real life. Or l ever will be. Nevertheless, checking if there was any truth behind Kristine’s words seemed like a reasonable thing to do. I decided I’m going to thoroughly inspect every Max’s moves today. I must be honest with what was going on around me. Although I had no clue what I would do next if Kristine’s assumptions are going to be proved correct and Max Caulfield indeed did have feelings towards me.

“One step at the time, V.” I wink at my reflection, took a purse and step out of the safe harbour. Just to meet with a storm.

“OH. MY. GOD.” Kristine exclaimed roaming my body. “You did this for Max, didn’t you? Oh, you did, you bitch! You’re crazy for her and thanks to me you finally see it. You’re dying to eat that muffin. To enter the dragon’s lair. You can wait to play with that pussy. You are finally gonna fluff up the flange, to tickle the…”

I only rolled my eyes while my flamboyant roommate was exhibiting her comprehensive vocabulary. There was no point to react, she was on fire. The ringing bell saved me from learning many more synonyms for lady parts. It was Drew and Zach. With her special one around Kristine forgot about me, which I was extremely grateful for. Although Zach added his two cents when we were walking down the stairs.

“I’d fuck you.”

“Oh, gross.” I rewarded his impish smile with a punch to his chest. “You’re gross Zach. You can’t expect any decent girl to take you seriously if you say things like that. It’s nothing but gross.”

“Yeah, I’m gross. Nothing new. I thought we established that the first day we met, didn’t we? When you wore the same exact outfit, and I thought the same thing.” He held the front door opened for me as we were leaving the building. “And it was a compliment by the way. If I said you look hot, you wouldn’t realise the complexity of that statement. Look at you, Vic. You’re back on your feet again. And I am so happy to see that.”

Technically he was right. Yet, “I’m happy you’re happy but don’t compliment me with I’d fuck you, ever again. Capisce?” Zach didn’t make any promise just laugh some more and opened the passenger door of his car for me. Drew and Kris hopped in the backseat and surprisingly didn’t get involved in any PG-13 activities. So, we all spent our ride to school discussing the possible results of our Law exam. The discussion was rather depressing, but at least it kept my mind from what I was about to face. Very soon, it seemed. Because when Zach turned the car to the Academy parking place driveway Warren in the peppy chat with Max were just on the spot. Our driver honked to gain their attention which resulted in Warren’s enthusiastic waving. I peeked to the rear-view window with a suspicion of what kind of reaction their presence can cause. I wasn’t wrong. Kristine’s smug face was all in there.

“Shut up, Prescott. Just shut up!” I shake my head because I knew she won’t.

“I wanna be a bride of honour at the wedding. Do you understand, Chase?!” She demanded

“You’re getting married, Victoria? Oh, that’s fantastic. But isn’t it… I mean…Wow. I didn’t even know you were seeing someone. Do.. do you…” Drew stuttered. I rolled my eyes for countless time today. Zach was having a great time laughing about the whole thing.

“No, Drew.” I turned to the backseat when our designated driver finally parked the car. “I am not getting married. Your girlfriend is obviously on drugs.” And gave Kristine an icy glare. “Now let’s show some hustle. We don’t wanna be late for a class, do we?”

“Surely not!” Kristine rejoiced and drop the drama. For now. Out of the car, Zach found himself by my side walking towards Academy and towards approaching Max and Warren. I refused to look their way, yet.

“It’s Max, who’s behind this, isn’t it?” He leant to me and whispered. “It’s because of her you have a smile on your face again and dropped that ugly oversized hoodie.”

“Zach,” I sighed. Max and I had gotten acquainted, so what. It didn’t mean it was the start of some epic love story. Why everyone jumps to this conclusion as a first thing, was beyond me.

“Easy, V. You’re gonna tell me when you ready. Or not. It’s up to you.” He assured me and turned his attention to the newcomers. “Hi, guys!” He greeted. “So, Warren, have you already dumped the over-jealous girlfriend of yours?” Zach hauled Warren away and let me and Max be the last two left behind.

“Hi.” She said. And smiled. She did this often, recently. It was subtle. Even diffident perhaps. But she had never smiled before. Showing relief after tough challenge, yes but only one memory of her truly smiling occurred to the period before we had started to hang out. It happened when I had seen her with Rachel. But her severe attitude had changed. And every time we meet, we talked, or we just relished each others company in silence, she rewarded me with the corners of her mouth going up, frequently. Now I could see that.

“Hey,” I replied and motioned towards the Academy as a suggestion we should tail others. Oh, and I smiled. Of course, I did. Yes, she was the sole reason I was happy again. Zach had been right. No other person, no other circumstance had brought me back to life, bid my blood to run. Just Max. I needed to be honest about that if my goal was to navigate this relationship between us to the right course. Still, none of it meant the romantic feelings should be involved. Or were present at Max’s side. We moved, and Max started a ramble about how I was probably a robot. Because no one can walk in such shoes and look so ultimately gracious. She claimed Rachel has a theory those shoes are only for putting on the pedestal and admiring them. Because it’s pure torture to wear them.

“Well, maybe Victoria Beckham can walk in them for more than thirty seconds and still maintain the full grace. Are you Victoria Beckham’s clone, then? Or perhaps,” Max glanced at me her voice all serene, but her eyes cutely playful,” perhaps she’s your clone. You’re the original. The final boss of high heels.” She pointed when we went through the main doors of the Academy building.

I looked her way, and she had this expression, this jolly attitude that says there’s was no place she would rather be than right next to me. Did it mean she liked me though? She was like this with Rachel, too and they were just friends. I opened my mouth but as so many times before the words didn’t come. Max Caulfield positively possessed the ability to make me speechless. And again, she wasn’t discouraged by my inability to speak.

“You look stunning by the way.” She announced like she was talking about today's weather. “Not that it needed to be said. Surely you noticed when you looked in the mirror in the morning.” She said it like she didn’t make much of a deal from it. It was strange and wonderful at the same moment. It was like she didn’t bring it up because she yearned to impress me or appeal to me. She mentioned it because that was simply how she felt about my looks. Was it proof that she had feelings for me or just simple confirmation she could appreciate a touch of class when she saw it?

“And by any chance are you personally stunned too by my magnificence?” I dared to challenge her when we almost reached the classroom. Maybe I should wait after school. Yet I got impatient with a goal o to have this out of my chest. I kind of wished she’ll shove the flirting attempt off, and it is gonna be settled that what future held for us was friendship. Part of me, the one who preferred numbness desired she’ll not go any further. That Kristine was wrong, and there was no spark between us. Max stopped, the moment Zach and Warren went in, so there were only two us and empty hall.

“No.” She pierced me with her eyes. And despite her initial answer, it brought me no resolution. “You do not stun me, Victoria Chase.” Her right hand lifted up and laid on my chest, on the place where my heart was beating more lively than ever. Again, she did not miss the opportunity to touch me. “You inspire me, you enrich me, you give me joy.”

Now, she stunned me.

“Max,” I said her name because I needed to feel the touch of it on my lips. And it wasn’t the only thing I did yearn for. My hand rose up and connected with hers on my chest, my fingers softly slipped under her palm. And she stroked them with the utmost tenderness. Did she want to kiss me as much as I was dying to kiss her? If yes, would she still feel the same if she knew the whole story? Maybe there was no need to tell her. She would never find out, would she? Perhaps I could just lean closer and succumb. Let that dainty lips to release me from my bands. And my crimes would pardon be when I let my indulgence to set me free. But the image of a frail body in the pool of blood disallowed me to continue. Besides this wasn’t a time. “We should… we… we have to go to the class.”

“Right.” Max nodded but didn’t move an inch. And neither did I. But we couldn’t stay like this forever, could we? She was first who got it an untouched me. Shame but necessary. This wasn’t a cheesy fanfiction where we hop in the car and drive towards the sunset. This was reality. The reality where Max still didn’t know everything about Kate Marsh, and I still had no clue what had happened to the girl named Chloe Price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re interested in Drew’s background and it slipped your mind in the meantime, it was mentioned at the end of Chapter 8 (his conversation with Victoria)
> 
> If you’re interested in the song, he sang it is [Fletcher’s Wasted Youth](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCX2axvbE4o).
> 
> If you’re interested when Max and Victoria are going to finally kiss, you have to keep reading 😊


	19. Capital Punishment

**Max Caulfield**

**Monday, May 25, Day 252, Year 1**

“And by any chance are you personally stunned too by my magnificence?” Victoria asked.

I might be a newcomer to the matters of affection, but I believed I was improving. I did not restrain myself from praising Victoria’s look frequently, and I didn’t hesitate to touch her when I felt like it. Which was basically always. And slowly I’ve become more and more daring and she more and more accustomed to our building relationship. Yet, it was me who led when she went with the flow, more or less. Was it clear to her that I was fond of her? That she meant more to me than just some acquaintance? Was she prepared for someone wanting her again, or should I try to stay in the boundaries of friendship for a little longer? It sounded impossible.

Because I believed I had finally reached the point when I was ready to fully embrace everything Victoria’s presence in my life could offer.

I halted and looked into her deep green eyes. There was still so much behind them I didn't understand. Yet, there was no doubt that this time her question wasn’t a tease. She didn’t ask it as a whim, like a month ago when we were lying in the grass, holding hands for the first time.

“No,” I heard myself starting what had been impossible a couple of months ago. Victoria asked because she must be finally aware something was going on between us. And my next move was about to confirm it. My hand laid on her chest. Rested on the silky burgundy shirt. As many times before I was unable to resist. And it wasn’t because the smooth fibres felt wonderful on the skin. It was because under those fibres there was a skin I yearned to caress. And under that skin, there was a heart that bid my own blood run faster. The heart that brought me back to life. “You do not stun me, Victoria Chase. You inspire me, you enrich me, you give me joy.” _You complete me._ I almost added, but it would be too much to admit even for me, let alone to hear for her. Even when that’s exactly how I felt about her.

“Max,” Victoria said my name, but nothing else came. At least not in the form of words. But her hand rose up as well and linked with mine. The thought of kissing her had been crossing my mind awfully lot, recently. But I always banished it. I shouldn’t fantasise about it, rather work on how to make it happen. And now we were closest to that kiss than ever. Or could it be only I felt that way when she didn’t?

_Yeah, Max. That’s why her lower lip was trembling. That’s why her breaths were shallow and becoming quicker and quicker. That’s why the tips of her fingers slipped under the palm of your hand, now stroking it gently._

But shouldn’t it be her who initiates the kiss first as a sign she’s over Steph? Shouldn’t we first talk about it? Something was holding Victoria in check. Or maybe I should wait for a heartfelt confession for a moment when we weren’t expected to be in the class any minute. “We should… we… we have to go to the class,” Victoria confirmed the kiss is not going to happen.

“Right.” She indeed was right. Yet, it was the last thing I desired. Nevertheless, I did.

In the class, I sank to the chair right next to Warren’s. The resolution to not think about what just had happened was strong with me for now. Yet I was still determined about opening the topic right after school. As always Warren’s rambling came to the help.

Today at 14:00, right after the class with professor Heywood the results of the Criminal and Administrative Law exam should be put online. I supposed that it would take a tremendous effort to find a student of the Academy who would tell you it’s not the toughest exam of the first year. Warren wouldn’t be one of those, surely. He was freaking out since last week we had gone through it.

“I’m sure you passed Warren, your brain is amazing and remembers everything. There is no way you had any trouble with all those law bulsh-- Blissful knowledge. So blissful and so much knowledge.” I corrected myself. Professor Heywood was sitting behind the front desk as always. There was nothing that would suggest he was listening. But one could never know with those dark lens glasses. 

“You think so?” Well, one could never be sure. It was a multiple-choice test containing 100 questions. And the time limit for the test was 90 minutes. One didn’t have to be Carl Gauss to put two and two together and realise that the estimated time for answering the question was less than a minute. Someone gave it a nickname _Massacre of the innocents._ Warren was aware of all of this and didn’t need to be reminded. So, I chose different words.

“Of course, you passed, you rock!” I bumped Warren’s shoulder with mine, and it was the right encouragement for him to go through the whole exam again, ensuring himself he picked the correct answers. But he was interrupted.

“So, class,” the clock struck nine, “I happened to meet professor Sorgdrager,” and professor Heywood did a dramatic pause before finishing his sentence. I sensed all of my classmates (including me) stopped breathing. Going through the written exam created by the most prominent expert on law in the whole country once, was a tremendous task. Going through it more than once was equal to stabbing your own thigh, sticking a pencil into your own eye, or taking a sip of hydrochloric acid. The girl who studied the regular police officer program and had lectures with us had told me there was a guy who was so nervous when he attempted the third time (the last possible) he puked. It could be an urban legend. But this one I was tempted to believe. “And she told me you all did an outstanding job and passed.” Professor Heywood relieved us. “ No need to worry about tomorr--” 

The class bursts with happiness. It wasn’t a complete victory because those who passed the written test had to go through a short oral exam too but, hey. No more hundred questionable questions with multiple possible answers. “Don’t worry about tomorrow.” He repeated, “voice your opinion but stick to the facts,” and continued through the joyful banter that was spreading through the classroom.

“BUT,” professor Heywood raised his voice again to calm the festivities, “the rumour has it, the toughest challenge in your first year at Academy is still in front of us. Or you. Definitely you. Not me.” He prompted. 

Damn. I suspected what he meant. A conclusion of this class _Crime scene investigation and forensic science_ was supposed to be an Oral exam. But professor had used to tease us, he’ll replace it with a full-time field test if he considered us competent enough. Well, throughout the year he had challenged us a lot but not once he had given an impression, we really impressed him. And such a test was normally scheduled for the finals, after three years of study. So, I bet no one really expected…

“Two full crime scenes, two teams. No room for mistakes or the culprit will escape the punishment. And your chance to become an elite police investigator is going to slip through your fingers the same way. No pressure, though, I had no doubt you can do it. And if not, well this program is obviously not for you.” I could cajole myself he was still only joking, although the tone of his voice didn’t leave much room for interpretation. Looking around, I thought more of my classmates waited for him to reveal it was only a joke. But the longer the silence prevailed, the less possible it seemed.

“We’re not ready!” The first time, ever, Kristine Prescott didn’t sound like an explosion of confidence. “There is so much we need to learn. Actually, there are two years of learning in front of us!” And for the first time ever, I fully agreed with her.

“Oh come, Kristine Prescott. Don’t tell me I've just heard the quitter.” Professor scolded.

“No, but… I mean… I mean.”

“We are not ready, professor Heywood. You know that.” Drew, who had wished nothing to do with her ten months ago, backed Kristine up. And he also interlaced their fingers and squeezed her hand.

“Who else thinks, you’re not ready?”

All hands lifted up. I believed I wasn’t a pussy anymore and the year in here hardened me in so many ways impossible before but... The real crime scene wasn’t a joke. You miss one thing, and everything fails. Professor Heywood shook his head. So, he saw. Or sensed?

“It’s already decided.” He spoke emotionless. 

“What is the point of giving us the task,” the speaker stood up, “you know we are going to fail!?” Goosebumps. Well, Victoria-bumps. Her voice was like a cut to the flesh. Sharp, horrid, absolute. 

Professor Heywood made a few steps towards her. Maybe too many. “So, when in the tough situation, the situation you’re not ready for, you’re going to politely ask criminals to wait until the moment when you are ready. That’s what you suggest, Victoria Chase.” He challenged her. My right hand curled to the ball involuntarily, as much as it got according to the past injury.

“Why do you always have to push? Why? Do you think it will make us better officers if you break us first?” She tamed her emotions a bit and wasn’t actually asking him. More like pondering what’s behind his irrational approach.

“I have no intention to break you, Victoria.” He added a bit of softness to his speech. “But I have to push you to make you better.” Victoria looked like she’s considering opposing him but, in the end, she just slid back to her seat. And the tensed muscles of my arm relaxed.

“And today I’m not going to push you, anymore. I have so much faith in you, today's class is gonna be a light-hearted discussion. Nothing more. No more theorems, no more challenges. I have so much faith in you, I believe you don’t need any more practising and handle the Friday exam with ease.” 

“What’s the topic?” Warren required full of enthusiasm. As always.

“Capital Punishment.”

“Light-hearted never sounded so heavy.” Trevor scoffed.

“Yes or No?” Professor overlooked the sarcasm and got right to the core.

“Yes.” Dana reacted immediately.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Marc Dutroux.” She said. Only the name made me sick on my stomach. 

“Wouldn’t death be actually a redemption for him? Like an easy way out?” Warren impelled.

“Maybe, but would you let him live if he did it to your daughter?” I’ve never seen such a solemn expression on Dana’s always smiling face. But who would smile when talking about the worst criminal you can imagine? Warren fidgeted on his seat, maybe considering the answer. Before he did someone else gave her opinion.

“No. Never.”

“So, you’d demand a death sentence for him? Are you a supporter of capital punishment?” Kristine’s tenacious words piqued the professor's interest.

“Not per se.” She shrugged. “I believe I’m against it actually. But I’d end Marc Dutroux’s life if he hurt my daughter. In a second. No trial, no regrets.”

“I’m with her,” Trevor announced. “Me, too.” And Drew joined him.

Professor strolled around the desks, and his straight-up face and dark lens glasses gave no clue to what he was thinking about.

“Justice is blind. Impartial and objective. No matter who you are, you must respect the law. If you killed him, you’d go to jail. You’d commit a crime. And break the law you swore to protect.”

“So, you’re saying if she’d killed the paedophile and murderer, Marc Dutroux she’s the same crook as he, who tortured and raped and killed innocent girls? If I said double standard, it wouldn’t be even close to how far those two occurrences are.” Drew added struggling to keep his anger under control 

“I didn’t say anything about _the same,_ ” Professor explained. “But she’s still a killer. Do you think murder is justice? If you kill a killer, doesn’t the number of killers in the world stay even?”

“You can compare that.” Drew spat. “He’s a fucking paedophile. And she’s a caring parent.” Then clear his throat when he realised, he used the F word. “Theoretically speaking.”

“So, theoretically speaking. Would it make you feel better? If Marc Dutroux was dead? Would it bring you any justice if he was executed? By your hands. Or even by the hand of authority. Would it bring your daughter back?”

“No. I don’t think so.” Kristine admitted weakly. “But in the end, nothing would, wouldn’t it?”

Professor clasped his hands together and nodded. And then he did this unexpected thing. She patted Kristine’s shoulder. “You’re going to be a great mother. And once you tame your wild emotions, also a great police officer.” He smiled subtly. “So… we went through the Yes approach. Is there any strictly No to Death sentence opinion?” 

Surprisingly, I’ve never really given this topic a thought, actually. Although I still wouldn’t see myself as a capital punishment supporter. But it was difficult to completely dismiss this possibility when we’ve just discussed Marc Dutroux. The sentiment stayed with all of us because nobody spoke for a long moment.

“No arguments against Death sentence?” Professor asked eventually, visibly surprised.

“Well, It’s irreparable. In the case of wrongful execution, there’s no going back.” Zachary came to our salvation.

“Could you name any victims?”

“Milada H-,Ho-- I’ll write it, okay? She was punished enough. I don’t want to add more by maiming her name.” Professor approved, and Zachary’s fingers swiftly interacted with the keyboard on his desk. Then the name I’ve never heard before appeared on the screen in front.

MILADA HORÁKOVÁ

“Well, you’re the last person I expected to know her, and from the look on your classmates they have no clue who she was.”

“Because they are tossers.” Zach grinned.

“It’s a good example. But it isn’t at the same time. Because it was the judicial murder, not wrongful execution. Official authorities had just one intention. Execute her. The charges were completely made-up. Although if we considered an option, the death sentence never was an option, she could be only jailed for a lifetime at first and released eventually when the oppressive political system collapsed. So, your example definitely serves as advocacy against capital punishment. But not as an example of miscarriage of justice. There was no justice with Mrs Horáková.” While the professor was talking, I googled her. A brief version of her story brought me back to the No Death sentence side. And I was also beyond happy I had been born in the modern Netherlands, not in some 1950’s totalitarian Eastern Europe regime. 

“So, could we find a better example? More evidence related less political?”

“It’s hard to come up with a case because once they're dead, justice doesn't really care about them anymore, does it? It’s a closed case.” It was Zachary again, and I agreed. But when he mentioned closed cases, I remembered all of those cold cases instead, that I had studied. It was a preparation for reopening the one that was personal to me. Once I’ll have a badge, I need to be ready to find Elliot Hampden and not allow him to slip between justice’s fingers again.

So, when I’d studied all those cases I’d encountered one that had been closed but later reopened. The investigators had found a connection with the later murders. In the meantime, however, the original convict had been executed. In the end, the initial suspect had been proved innocent. Which hadn’t served him much because he had already been punished. Although the person who had testified against him had been claimed guilty for all of the murders, eventually.

“Timothy Evans,” I retold a brief version of his story. 

“Great one, Max Caulfield. Timothy Evans is the perfect example of miscarriage of justice. An innocent man who lost his wife and daughter to a murderer and was even executed for this deed he had never done.” Professor appreciated my contribution, but according to his next words, I wished I would rather keep my mouth shut.

“So, what is your personal opinion on the death sentence?” He asked. What was my opinion? Did I have one? I only knew this capital punishment thing was can of worms, and no matter what, nothing good will ever come from it. My assumption was proved correct a moment later. “For example, would you support a death sentence for the man who butchered young women out of spite. Killed her in cold blood and didn’t hesitate to get rid of anyone who uncovered his heinous act, if they wouldn’t keep their wits about them and stopped him.”

Stopped him? I freaking hadn’t stopped Elliot. I’d only managed to save my own life. But he was still out there, somewhere. I hadn’t pushed on detective Tiedemann and made him listen to what I had seen. I had let myself be numbed. I had let my mother keep me from all of this just to keep me _safe_ for so long.

The non-existent stench of the chemistry lab touched my nostrils

I touched my right hand and slowly caressed the place decorated with a lightning-shaped scar. I hadn’t stopped him, only saved my life. That’s what had happened.

I raised the hand and saw the gory mangled mess. The shards of shattered glass were stuck in the side of it. The pain paralysed me. No matter how hard I tried, almost no air came to my lungs. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew what was going on. Yet, I couldn’t do a single thing to prevent it.

“Max, hey, Max.” I heard the voice that had already pulled me through once before. And this voice brought me back again. I looked up, staring at the hand that was healed and shard-less. I turned to the direction from where the voice came from and saw Victoria. Her deep green eyes were full of encouragement and understanding. “Here, take this.” She tossed me the sour candy and kept our eyes linked until I put it into my mouth. _You can do this._ She mouthed. The flow of time was kind of twisted, and I had only the little idea how long it took before I came back to my senses. But when I checked the clock on the wall, it wasn’t more than thirty seconds. And the professor was still next to my desk looking like he’s patiently awaiting the answer. _Breath. Think. And say it._ But what was I about to say? Did I want Elliot dead?

“I would not demand ending this man’s life.” My voice was shaking, but I was speaking, so it was a start. “I would not demand ending his life,” I said again more confidently, “but I would take his life from him. I would put him in the cell for the rest of his life with nothing but water and bread. So, he’d have enough time to think about that young woman. About everything he stole from her. Of all the paintings she could paint if she decided to be an artist, of all the patients she could heal if she decided to be a doctor. Of all the kisses she could give to the person she loved but never done. And maybe… maybe once… if he would realise what his actions caused, if he would be able to show remorse, maybe I would give him a chance to redeem himself.”

I finished strongly. I replayed the sound of my words in my head, and those weren’t said by some scared little girl. Definitely not.

“You roll kitty!” Zach shouted.

“Don’t call her kitty. She’s a beast now.” Dana admonished him. I gulped still feeling a sour taste in my mouth. The flavour that had gotten me back in the saddle. Stealing a glance on Victoria revealed she was watching me. Proudly. My face flushed at once. Some beasts I was. Now blushing like a schoolgirl who was just praised by her most favourite teacher. The further discussion turned to possible alternatives to the death sentence and the possibility of resocialisation for the worst criminals. Warren suggested the Cryo-Penitentiary and subliminal rehabilitation techniques like in the movie Demolition Man. It lightened the mood, but frankly, I wasn’t paying much attention.

I spent the rest of the class, thinking about how I basically talk about the one sole thing that could make me lose my mind. And I did it in front of eight people. Although only one of them really got it. 

“So now when we know we all passed that freaking exam wanna grab a snack and celebrate?” Warren’s question suggested the class was over.

“A-actually.” My eyes quickly flicked to Victoria, who was listening to something Zach was telling her. “I can’t today. See ya tomorrow.” 

Before I knew any better I forgot about politeness and interrupted them with no shame. 

“Vic-- Victoria,” I spoke. “I-I was thinking--” And stuttered. Now what? I really hadn’t thought this through, hadn’t I?

“Shit, I have a hot date, and I’m already late.” Zach covered my clumsiness and waved us goodbye.

“So, what were you thinking, freckles?” Victoria said casually when we left the classroom. Like I just hadn’t been on the brink of the meltdown not long ago. The collapse she’d saved me from. I loved how sweet she could be. I love how she got stuff about me, even without me telling her. I’d love to ask her to come to a date with me. But then I remember the restraint in her eyes at the end of our morning conversation.

“Let me buy you a coffee as gratitude. For today.” I offered going through the Academy doorway meeting another beautiful May sunny day. “And for the other day in January,” I added but when I saw her frowning, I didn’t find it as beautiful anymore. 

“Max, there’s nothing to be thankful for.”

“But--”

“How about this.” She suggested. “I’ll have a coffee with you. Like now. But everyone’s paying for their own cup.”

Since the time spent with her was at stake, dismissing Victoria’s offer wasn’t an option. Even if she wouldn’t consider it a date. And I kind of would.

“Okay, fine. Whatcha think about Willow’s café. It’s 2 minutes drive from here.” 

“Or two tram stops.” She pointed to the incoming Tram. “Come! No. 10 is our ride.” She grabbed my hand, and before I knew we were running side by side across the green in front of the Academy. She ran in those slippers at full speed without any trouble. Damn, some cray skill. The heels mustn't touch the ground much. We hopped in the tram, and at the same moment, the door closed behind us. My heart rate was close to max, and the adrenaline filled my veins. And when a year ago I would blame it on the prolonged sprint now I know it had nothing to do with running. 

“Always so bossy, aren’t you?” I teased her when finally, able to catch a breath. 

“I’m not bossy.” She pulled me down to the seat, still not releasing the hold of my hand. “I’m just…”

“Bossy.” I cut her short resolutely.

“Well, who’s bossy now.” She nudged my shoulder.

“You are.” I nudged her back, and it all felt so smooth and easy, and we were looking at each other the same way we did in the morning, and an urge to kiss her was back. I saw Victoria biting her lower lip and gulped. I was three seconds from going for it, but the generic voice announcing our stop prompted Victoria to her feet and me to follow. We got out of the tram. And when walking down the street to the café, I wondered how much attempts I'm going to need. I'd already wasted two. I guessed the sharpshooter achievement was already missed.

“So not a fan of cars?” I asked when we were coming to Willow's café terrace. “Or just being afraid to be alone with me. In a tiny, closed space.” I wasn’t about to drop this, though. The cat was already out of the bag. Victoria didn’t react, just chuckled. 

“This one’s cool?” She picked the table with a nice view, and I nodded while taking a seat.

“And about the car,” Victoria snuck a look from her menu, “we are Dutch, aren’t we?”

“Yep, we are.” Before she could elaborate, the waitress stopped by, and we ordered two macchiatos. Funny that we made the same choice, I thought. “So, about our beautiful country…”

“Right. The Netherlands.” Victoria continued. “You don’t need a car in here, really. The infrastructure’s great. The whole country is flat. You can freaking ride a bike from Maastricht to Groningen without a problem. And it will only take you 20 hours when you basically ride through the whole country. Besides, I'm not a vigilante like you. I didn’t do any deed.” Her eyes absentmindedly wandered to the scar on the side of my right hand. Like I gained it beating a crap from some lowlife. “I just did enough shits in my life. The smallest good I can do is to reduce my carbon footprint as much as it gets.” There was the same amount of admiration and regret in her last words. What she regretted, I could only guess. What I knew was that I didn’t deserve any praise for that scar.

“I’m not a hero, Victoria. The girl died. When I found her, she was already dead. And he… her murderer… I-I…” The memories started to swirl around my head. Everything was happening all at once. They needed to be settled. I took a deep breath, keen to put everything in place. “Sorry, I’m not used to talking about this. Only to my shrink. And Rachel because she and Chloe…anyway this is kind of new to me...”

“No, don’t be, please. My bad I’ve brought it up. You have no obligation to tell me. It’s none of my--”

“I want to.” My eagerness to tell her wasn’t a surprise anymore. And neither was the other reaction. It felt natural to reach for her hand across the table. When it had happened a month ago, on the green in front of the Academy I had done it because I had desired she’d lingered one more moment. Now, I yearned she would stick around, even if the world around was gonna burn. “If you… I mean the other day you seemed interested. If I was mistaken, just tell me.” She flinched. Her hand flinched. A bit. A slightest tiniest bit. But not completely. It would crush my confidence before. But it didn’t anymore. “There’s no wrong answer. Just paint me a picture, and I’ll appreciate the view no matter what it is.” I assured her. And also, myself. “If you’re not ready, it’s cool,” I said, not particularly sure if I would be as cool if she said no. And definitely not decided if I was talking about our relationship or my past. Or both.

“I want to know.” Victoria nodded and let our hands connect properly. And my heart started to beat again, I recognised.

The words didn’t come easy, though, at first. I didn't expect to talk about this again. I started with the day when Chloe had been killed, but it wouldn’t give a whole picture of Elliot. So, I went back and started again with Rachel and Chloe being the cutest couple in my old high school and Elliott's resentment of this fact. But then again I realised it would not give a proper answer why it had hit me so hard, so I went back again and started with why Rachel and Chloe were so important for socially awkward clumsy high school me. Victoria didn't interrupt once. She let me take a moment of silence when I needed to, and she released my hand when I felt like gesticulating lively. Always ready to take it back after. She even pulled her chair closer to mine, so we didn't sit at the opposite side of the table anymore but rather shoulder to shoulder. 

“So that’s it. That’s why I’m here. When I’ll make it through Heywood's last test on Friday and then gain my badge at the beginning of the second year, I’ll log in to CRIFID as my first thing. And check everything about Chloe’s case. I’m ready to do everything in my power to reopen it and bring Elliot to justice.” I concluded. Maybe because her hand was in mine. Or now more like mine in hers. Or maybe because the Academy training hardened me enough. Or perhaps it was the combination of many factors. But going through the whole thing again didn’t make me feel upset or triggered. Actually, as unbelievable as it sounded with Victoria next to me, this confession didn’t bring anything dreary. Now when I had it out of my chest, It all felt like just having a coffee in a company of someone pleasant. Which I actually had.

“It’s not an easy path you chose, and you surely know that. But if anyone can find the guy and open the case again, it’s you.” She didn’t say that because it was a polite thing to do. She believed in me. I had no doubt. Her eyes told me. And it wasn’t the only reason why I was convinced just friends won’t be enough for me. “I’ve been watching you for the whole year. How you’ve been becoming better and better every day. I've been touched by so many things you have done. And maybe should have the courage to tell you sooner. You’re a real thing, Max. Nancy Drew can retire, at once.” She gushed, but before her warm words could sink in her attitude changed.

“And that's why if we’re going to… are going to b-be friends, you need to know something.” She emphasised a word friend, getting all pale and I found no liking in it. “And I hope it will not stand in the way of our... f-friendship. Because I’d love to have you in my life. As.. as…” Why she was suddenly so obsessed with that fucking F-word, was beyond me. And it was also highly annoying. “I want to have you in my life, but I’ve screwed up so many things.” She went on, her face losing more and more colour. “I thought at least I knew how to do friendships, but I screwed that thing either… I just wish I could stop screwing things up... Definitely don’t want to screw up things with you…”

“What’s this about, Victoria? Just tell me.” It sounded more urgent than I intended, but she was freaking confusing.

“Remember Kate?”

“What?” Kate. Did she say, Kate? Well, if it wasn’t Steph, I should be safe, shouldn’t I?

“Kate.” She repeated. And it didn’t matter anymore this was about Kate, not Steph because it was for sure whatever she was about to tell it’ll bring me no pleasure.

“The girl, you bullied?” I was becoming more and more confused when she attempted to drag the Kate girl into this. 

“She slit her wrists back then.”

“Oh.” Oh. That was utterly unexpected. I swore she was about to say something like she had been in love with Kate. Or still was. And that’s why she broke up with Steph. But this. Victoria gave an impression she’s going to faint.

“I-I… it would never occur to me, she could, she would… that anyone would... I Only know it was idiotic to do that... To put that nasty video of her online. For fun, for approval, for--”

“Dead. She’s dead?” It slipped through my mouth. And those words felt absolutely unreal. I’d rather believe Victoria loved men and the Steph thing was only the stunt than she was a trigger for someone’s suicide.

“No, no. She lives. I-I found her in the girl’s restrooms. From all of the people, it was me. How ironic. Paramedics came just in time. Well, technically she was dead for a minute or so. Her heart stopped beating when I was trying to keep her alive. But they brought her back to life.” I was stunned, now I was. Was this even real or was I experiencing some fucked-up PTSD episode, I wondered. “Fuck. Fuck.” Victoria was unable to fight the tears, anymore. “I didn’t want to screw up things, and I massively did again, didn't I? Maybe I shouldn’t tell you. Or tell you, now at this precise moment. But you needed to know if we... Fuck. Maybe you didn’t… maybe you didn’t need to know. I just thought you should know if we were supposed to become...” If she said a word friend, I'd have a nosebleed. The pressure behind my nose bridge multiplied. Fortunately, she didn’t say what we were supposed to. She just reached for her purse and put a 20 Euro bill on the table. “Anyway, here’s for the coffee.” And then she was gone.

“I’ve thought you said everyone is paying for their coffee,” I muttered staring at the chair Victoria was sitting in no longer. “20 is too much.”

* * *

**Victoria Chase**

**Monday, May 25, Day 252, Year 1**

_Why are you running away, Victoria?_ The annoying voice in my head demanded. Why the fuck I could be possibly doing this, I tried to shush it. Giving Max Caulfied the time and space to deal with a fact a girl slit her wrists because I had bullied her. _And why can't you be present while she’s dealing with it?_

“Just stop!” I exclaimed. Which didn’t help much to feel less like a deranged psycho.

I slipped into the tram, that just arrived not paying attention where it’s gonna take me. Because once I was in, and the vehicle moved, I stripped myself from the choice of making a choice. Which was good. I needed to calm down first. It was incredibly stupid to talk about Kate now. But again, I had gotten impatient and just wanted to have it out of my chest. This was Max’s moment to open up to me, and I had ruined it.

I felt my face stained with tears. The tears of anger mostly. I was utterly crossed with myself. Although weeping eyes were less of my problem. Living in a big city has one great privilege. No one cared if you had blue hair, walked barefoot in December or cried in the public transport. You could do whatever, and no one would judge.

So I didn't mind the tears. I minded the lack of two important persons in my life. Wished I could call Taylor or Jamie. Yeah Kristine had proved to be a great friend, but she missed that little something. Or big something. 20 years. Taylor and Jamie would get me, get everything even without me saying a word. But my big brother was in fucking China probably sleeping, cause it was 5 in the morning in there. And Taylor…

Taylor was a girl who had been my best friend for almost two decades. And now for four months after all those years, she wasn’t.

Technically I didn’t need her. I knew exactly what she would tell me. That Max was an extraordinary human being, who would get past my past eventually. But there was something else I was dying to discuss with her.

Maybe the time had come. To forgive. Taylor. But more importantly, myself.

_What do you want Victoria?_

Kate words she had addressed to me almost four years ago echoed in my head. Yeah, it had taken me quite a time to approach her. Though she hadn’t been exactly easy to find, after what had happened. I had been the last person she desired to see.

_I guess, I just… I’m sorry. I’m genuinely really sorry, Kate._

_I know, Victoria. I know you are._

_So, could you… could you maybe… could you ever forgive me?_

_Could you?_

Could I?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I've kept Kate’s fate ambiguous as long as it got. But now you know she lives. So, what do you think, guys, will she show up eventually?
> 
> To be honest, at the very early stage of creating this story (before the first chapter was published), I worked with the version where she died. With the version where Max’s road to Super Max was much much longer and Victoria’s need to punish herself much much stronger.
> 
> But then I changed it because it was too dark and too cruel to all of them. And I’m already giving these folks such a hard time. And you, lol.
> 
> Anyway. The next chapter is THE chapter. The conclusion of the first year at the Academy. First season grand finale If I desired to be poetic. And I wanted to bring every detail to perfection. So it ended up having more than 10 thousand words and 15 pages. Now, I’m not sure if I should rather split it in half. I don’t intend to drain you, but giving you another cliff-hanger when another waits around the corner, is unnerving, too. Besides, you waited for that kiss way too long.
> 
> Well, what about this. If this chapter is going to have at least a hundred hits in seven days, or more than 5 commenters/kudos combined, I’m not gonna split the next one. And give you all the emotions at once.
> 
> Chapter Trivia: All victims and criminals discussed in the chapter are real people.


	20. It's not Over until it's Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I would like to thank tkyash. When I opened my inbox and read the message with an offer to help me edit this piece, my first thought was that my mind was playing tricks on me. Well, it wasn’t and what tkyash did for me according to this chapter is amazing
> 
> You're a star, tkyash! I would very much like to dedicate this chapter to you…
> 
> …and also, to every other reader that has made it so far. 😊
> 
> Maximum Victory!

**Max Caulfield**

**Friday, May 29, Day 256, Year 1**

It was a couple of minutes before nine in the morning. We were sitting in briefing room B in the Academy basement. Me along with my group that consisted of Drew, Trevor and Victoria. Professor Heywood hadn’t changed his mind. Our final test after the first year in the Academy was going to be a complete case with a full crime scene, figurants as witnesses and suspects instead of just an oral exam. Behind the door of the briefing room was the short transition hall that led to the training area divided into two sophisticated crime scenes. In a few moments, we were supposed to get a call from "CCC" (command and coordination centre) about the crime situation and go there as an investigation team. Frankly, I wasn’t nervous anymore. I had time to think about this and rationalised everything. I had worked hard throughout the year. I had learnt as much as I could, and as long as it wasn’t real, there was no real danger awaiting us. No one would stab me or try to kill my companions. If I stick to what I’d learnt, I should be safe. I’ll find the evidence and convict the culprit, and I’m going to pass this test. Simple enough. In theory.

How to deal with the fact that Victoria was on my team was another issue altogether. She hadn’t approached me since Monday. She hadn’t even dared to look at me. Not like I was all fired up to face her. I mean… I had totally gotten carried away with how things between us had escalated in the last two months. Since we had had our first online chat which had effortlessly become a habit. And then our first true talk when she had asked me what my standards for exquisite beauty were, as a reaction to my obvious flirting with her. It was like from a cheesy rom-com. We were lying in the soft grass, and our fingers interlaced in a gentle touch. And even with the end of the semester’s usual fuss and exams going on, our interactions real or virtual hadn’t diminished and became more and more profuse. Intimate. I would definitely call most of them intimate. In the past, I hadn’t sought out any connections with other people. Well, I had connected with some, physically, if they had initiated it but eventually it meant nothing to me. So technically, I didn’t know anything about how attraction worked. And I couldn’t count out the scenario that It may seem to me that Victoria liked me, but it didn’t have to be true. Or she might be interested in me, but she still had feelings for Steph, as well.

When I had told Victoria about Elliot, I’d meant it as permission to let her into my world. As the first person after Rachel. But then she had come with her own confusing confession. Firstly, it had occurred to me she had gotten back together with Steph when she had been referring to us as friends over and over. Hard to say if that had been more of a shock than the other thing she had brought up. A girl had (almost) killed herself because Victoria bullied her. It had been a couple of years ago, and I probably would never have found out if she didn't tell me. But she had said that I needed to know. 

I glanced at Victoria, who was sitting in the left corner of the briefing room. She looked… shut down. I remembered how persistent Rachel had been, about how I should give it a shot with Victoria. _She woke something inside you. Something that had never come to life before. I saw it a couple of times already, and I can’t unsee it,_ Rachel had said, and now when I finally accepted that she was right, I couldn’t unsee it either. But what about the thing with Steph, the thing with Kate, the… before I knew it, I found myself sitting next to Victoria.

“Hi. Nervous?” I smiled softly.

“Hi.” She did the same. “Maybe. But not because of the exam. I mean…” She shrugged. I scented the light touch of pomegranate mixed with that little something that was extremely erotic, but I still couldn’t put my finger on it. It was hella difficult to not ask her about the perfume. “I mean, if there is a chance for me to screw up, I’ll screw up. So, there is no point in being upset about it anymore.” She said more to the floor than to me.

“Victoria, I don’t know who you were before.” My hand tentatively approached her forearm,” I have no clue what happened between you and Steph or what you did to this Kate girl and why,” and slipped into hers. “But I know you now. You’re here with us because you want the world to be a better place. You want to serve and protect. That means something. No. Not something. That means everything!” 

I felt her hand relaxing in mine finally relishing the contact. I also couldn’t miss how both corners of her mouth went up. I had exactly fifteen seconds to be happy about restoring the good spirit between us. Then the console in front of the briefing room came to life. It was Professor Heywood speaking.

_“Team Cat’s curiosity. First, the current time in your scenario is 23:23. Check your armbands it should synchronise now.”_

I looked at my armband as did the rest of my group, and it did as Professor Heywood said. The upper part of the screen synchronised with the time of our scenario. The lower part was still just a bunch of zeros. The 8 hours countdown, limited time for the task, would start when we’re going to enter the training ground.

_“Is everyone synchronised?”_

“Yes.” We replied in unison.

_“Splendid. Now to work. We have a reported burglary. A woman had a deal with her neighbour, an art dealer, to walk his dog mornings and evenings when he’s on a business trip abroad. She came back later than usual because of her sister's birthday party. When she arrived, the main door was opened, and the floor was covered in one big pool of water. She didn’t catch the excess of water when she was outside because of the heavy rain. Also, the dog was sleeping on the couch and then she noticed the missing paintings, removed forcefully. She ran away and called the police immediately. ETA is 15 minutes. Patrol already secured the place. They also found out that the lights have malfunctioned. The water probably caused a short-circuit. So, you’ll be in the dark. Literally. You have 15 minutes to prepare. You can enter the training area sooner if you decide. But remember that once you're in, the exam will start, and you have 8 hours to solve the case. CCC over.”_

“Cat’s curiosity. I’ll never get used to that. Dana’s team is called Swan’s song. Who the hell is creating these names? J.K. Rowling?” Trevor shook his head obviously concerned about the name of our team. I couldn’t care less. Cat’s curiosity just stopped existing for me.

“Flooded house. Heavy rain. Mental. I’m done. I’ll fail. I can’t go in there.” I would crumble the second my grey canvas shoes would touch the water. There were no requirements for the outfit. So, I had chosen my usual in the morning. The CSI vest with a pinned flashlight and a holster with a handgun that was actually a paintball gun, which Professor Heywood gave all of us ten minutes ago were useless for the protection I needed. I had my waterproof boots in the car, but there was no chance I’ll be able to get them in less than 15 minutes. “You have to go in there without me. I can’t do this.”

Both Drew and Trevor laughed, at the great _joke,_ that wasn't a joke at all. Victoria didn’t. She placed our linked hands into her lap and looked right through me.

“You can.” And suddenly the worst thing wasn’t that I couldn’t go in there, but that she believed I could.

“You don’t understand.” I tried to release my hand from hers and stand up theatrically, with no success. So, I stuck to the place where she captured me and stared into her soft eyes. “I have nothing left. Nothing at my disposal that can help me. I won’t endure the flood. I’ll lose my mind to... well, you know. I’m done.”

“You’re not done. You have me.” It’s funny how the same words said by different people could have a completely different meaning. But with Victoria somehow, I knew “ _you have me”_ didn’t mean _you’re weak Max and I’ll take care of everything, just step aside._ Because that’s how I felt every time mum had told me the same. “We’ll figure this out. Is there anything I could give you a for a boost to start? Think! Sour candies perhaps?”

“I have some.” Trevor pulled a packet from his pocket. Both he and Drew had already gotten something was wrong. To my surprise, I only felt a supportive vibe from them. “I see you with them all the time, and I kind of got hooked up too.” He passed the candies to me and smiled. “All yours now.”

“Thanks.” I put one into my mouth, and everything started to get clearer. “I need another pair of shoes that are impenetrable. My socks cannot get soaked. It would probably trigger me immediately. I had a pair in my car but, it would take forever to--”

“I think Kristine has the same size,” Victoria replied, “you can switch.” In truth, it was an amazing idea. Those heavy boots she loved so much would resist any water.

“Take them off, Max.” Drew pointed to my converses. “And I’ll be back with Kristine’s in a sec.” While I was giving him my shoes, I could only hope that the team ‘Swan’s song’ was still in the briefing room A and hadn‘t entered their crime scene yet. He did as he promised and came back in no time.

There were no harsh comments about my instability. Yet, I felt like I need to apologise. “Sorry guys, I--”

“Listen, Max,” Victoria interrupted me. “I’m pretty sure Heywood did this on purpose. He knew it’ll affect you in the worst way.” It was such an insane coincidence that I actually believed her. “But he can fuck right off because you can do this. We’re going to solve this crime, and the culprit will not escape. Isn’t that right guys?” She turned to the boys.

“You bet,” Drew reassured us. “We are a perfect team.”

“Yeah, Cat’s curiosity for the win.” Trevor hailed. “Or maybe can we use another name? Just between the four of us. Like Ninja turtles or something.” He added.

I nodded eternally happy and surprised at the same time that that the guys backed me up. “Ninja turtles, then.” I finally finished lacing up Kristine’s heavy boots. “It’s almost time, and I think I’m ready. Oh, and guys. The flood could be intentional, so I suggest we close the shut-off valve first and avoid trying to mingle with faucets or any other sources. Because the perpetrators could have left the evidence in there.” I concluded when while we were leaving the briefing room B and walked through the transition hall. 

“Once I open this door, there will be no going back,” Drew said with his hand on the handle to the training area. Victoria looked at me and squeezed my hand. The one that didn’t hold the CSI kit. 

“Let’s do this”, I nodded and put on my latex gloves. Everyone else did the same and as we passed through the door, my armband buzzed. The eight hours countdown had started.

The heavy boots met the soaked grass, but they did the job and kept the water out. On my right, there was a streetlamp, on my left still quite mysterious Victoria Chase. The lamp was breaching the darkness and illuminating the pavement in front of one of those modern minimalist urban single-storied houses. But while my socks were safe and waterproof thanks to Kristine’s boots, the rest of my body wasn’t. The heavy rain quickly made its mark.

“Bonkers, we are freaking inside and, in the basement, but this is so real. How did they make it? The rain, the grass, the freaking house.” Trevor was visibly impressed, which didn’t happen often. Frankly, so was I, but I also had many different emotions boiling inside of me. And these needed to be controlled. Unexpectedly, gaining control went a lot smoother than I could have hoped for.

“Are you alright?” Victoria leant to into me so I could hear her through the deafening sound of the rain.

“No, not really.” The fucking rain and the flooded house felt like a massive hit below the belt. “But I will be when we are done with this case.” I knew that much. Because now I understood I wasn’t defenceless. And I also wasn’t alone.

“Good to hear.” Victoria approved and pointed to the grass in front of the house. “Let’s go inside, no way we can collect any evidence from there. The water has ruined everything.” 

“Let’s.” I turned on the flashlight pinned to my chest, and so did the others. “And I think I know where the shut-off valve is.” Dad’s effort to teach me about architecture had finally paid off. Because from the moment I saw the house, in my mind I could strip down the walls and saw the pipe system. “I’m on my way down to the basement. Who’s with me?” I asked, although I didn’t need to. 

“Sign me up.” Said Victoria as she released my hand. “Guys you talk with the patrol.” She glanced at the two police officers standing on the porch with an extremely sleepy dog sitting next to them. “We’re heading down to the basement.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go and slack off in the basement while the men do the hard work.” Drew teased.

“I’m not Kris. So, no need to pump your muscles up in front of me.” Victoria countered with a smirk, and then we separated ways as she and I entered the house, and the guys stayed on the porch with the patrol. I guessed where the basement door was and led us there. We were cautious not to interfere with any possible signs of the crime, thus also vigilant. It was peculiar to see the inside of the house. Not only because it was lit just by our flashlights. The modern exterior was in the sheer contrast with the almost aristocratic interior dove in the gnawing gloom. Everywhere we stepped, we encountered the thick water-soaked carpets. Pretty luxurious. I took no joy in hearing the squishing sound that accompanied our every step. Same applied to the water flowing out from the faucets in the kitchen and also in the bathroom (my suspicion was confirmed, and the flood was intentional). Victoria stuck close enough to my side, and the sour candy still didn’t completely dissolve in my mouth. The scent of her perfume and the sour taste helped in refocussing my attention to my other senses.

“Here. The basement. The shut-off valve is going to be in there.” I opened the door that led into complete darkness.

“Careful, water has made the stairs slippery. And by the way, how do you even know?” Victoria pried.

“Dad is an architect. This house may not be the exact template for the modern single-story house, but it bears a lot of similarities. If the valve is not where I think it is, it will be another hit under the belt from Professor Heywood.” I concluded as we reached the last stair, and our flashlight exposed the contours of the basement. 

“This is weird,” Victoria said what I was thinking. The artistic vibe was gone. The basement contained only one washing machine in the corner and one empty laundry basket. And a square carpet in the middle of the room. But this one lacked the pomp of his high-class brothers and sisters from upstairs. It was just a shabby black rug. “The washing machine--”

“Yeah, we already passed by one in the bathroom. Why does someone need two of them?” I finished before her and caught her soft, warm glance. It had been fucking freezing around us, but I felt an intense flick of warmth. The connection. Not only because we were thinking along the same lines. “There. The valve box next to the washing machine. First, let’s close the valve and then we’ll figure out the washing machine mystery.” I headed there and opened the small and almost invisible access door. Closing the valve was a piece of cake. But there was another lever in there that wasn’t attached to any pipe which made me curious.

“Do you know what it is?” Victoria squatted down next to me, again thinking the same thing.

“Well, take the fingerprints first, and then we’ll find out.” I prompted her.

“Do you think the burglars came down here to mingle with weird handles behind an invisible box’s doors?” She asked, but the tone of her voice revealed she was challenging me, not really asking.

“Heywood wanted us to be in the basement. You said so that he did the flood thing on purpose. It must be something down here. Besides, the burglary case will be a child’s play. Just a shroud. No forced entrance, the dog didn’t freak out about the trespasser. Well, maybe he was drugged but anyway. The perpetrator must be someone who knows this place well. So, take the fingerprints, and I’ll look around. The real case is here.” Now it was me who said what she was thinking and was rewarded with a playful hit on the shoulder.

“Bossy much?” Victoria smiled and put her CSI kit on the washing machine, ready to do what I required. In the meantime, I scanned the room, but there was literally nothing around except for the carpet, a laundry box and the machine.

“Okay. I have fingerprints. Can I use the handle now, boss?”

“Max. My name is Max. It’s only three letters, Vic. I know my exquisite beauty and detective skills,” I said mockingly, “are pretty distractive, but three letters is not much.”

“Jerk.” She smirked and used the handle. A bit dampened clicking sound followed. “Did you hear that?”

I nodded. “Look around.” Something in the room moved. But even after a couple of minutes, we couldn’t find the source. And then my eyes, at the same time as hers, fell on the shabby soaked carpet in the middle. We didn’t need to say anything anymore, just rolled that ugly thing up. And revealed the basement hatch door.

“Here. The tiny gap on the side. Maybe we can find an opening mechanism in there.” I said, and we both squatted down and stuck our fingers into the gap, but there was no mechanism.

“How about we push it?” Victoria suggested. And we didn’t need to use much force because the door opened after a small nudge. There were other stairs behind it that led deeper underground. First, I desired to cry with joy that we had solved a riddle, but then I reached for my gun. Technically the space down there wasn’t secure. And the awareness that I had realised it and went for my firearm as my first instinct made me even happier. But then the mix of bleach and disinfectant stench reached my nose and I suddenly felt wobbly.

“Sour candy?” Victoria half asked, half proposed in a low voice pointing her own gun to the hole in the floor. The stench must have hit her too.

“Yeah.” I put one in my mouth and tried to not breathe through my nose but my mouth. “This is the Dutch Police, anyone down there come out now,” I screamed into the darkness in a steady voice, my guts were shaking, however. There was no response.

Victoria knelt cautiously and peeked down. I mimicked her move, so our pinned flashlights illuminated the room below. The view got me willies and a cold sweat.

“Guys, you should come here. ASAP.” I spoke into the radio attached to my CSI vest.

 _“On our way,”_ Trevor responded.

The space down the stairs wasn’t bigger than 2 square meters. There was a chair there that reminded me of a dentist chair, but one could tell its purpose wasn’t to help patients here. And there was also a tray of medical instruments. But the instruments didn’t serve to treat sickness either.

“Torture chamber,” Victoria mumbled, precisely the same words that came to my mind.

* * *

I checked my armband. 49 minutes left until the end of the countdown. A look at the large investigation screen calmed me a bit, but it didn’t banish the restlessness completely. Now we resided upstairs in the lab. I would never think I preferred a lab to a cosy house, but that house was a lair of evil. The UV lamp had revealed that the basement and torture chamber was splattered with blood all over. The extent of bleach used by the culprit eliminated the option of finding out whose blood it was. Still, we had found other interesting things in the washing machine and under the drain in the torture room. Teeth, hair, fragments of bones. Revolting. We were able to connect it to 7 missing persons through a 10-year period. I knew it was all made up. All evidence was artificial, but the atmosphere of the house, the whole process of investigation… It all felt incredibly real. In the worst way and in the best.

“You seemed troubled.” Victoria approached me from behind and gently started massaging my stiff neck. 

“I’m just thinking. What if the boys won’t be able to crack the laptop in time? Can we afford to take such a risk?” I admitted peeking through the glass wall that separated us from another part of the lab where Drew and Trevor were bent over the laptop we had confiscated from the burglars. And I moaned. Yeah, I definitely moaned. But to in my defence what her nimble fingers were doing to my strained trapezius was beyond marvellous.

“I was thinking the same thing. Should we hand in the report now and be sure we make it in time. Or should we wait, and hopefully if it works out, we’ll have additional evidence and maybe uncover something even more horrendous.” She ceased the massage, and I would swear she left a soft little kiss on the back of my neck. But the next moment I convinced myself that my exhausted brain must be imagining it. Even when the goosebumps all over my body proved otherwise. “So, what would you prefer? Wait or hand it in now?” Victoria asked, looking worn-out.

“We have the report almost done. Let’s check it one more time, if the boys come up with something new, we can add it in as quickly as possible. And if not, we just hit the send button 10 seconds before the countdown stops.” According to Professor Heywood, we have been monitored the whole day. Everything in the scenario was scripted, so when we send the report, we would immediately know if we were successful. Which made me crave sending the report immediately even more, but on the other hand I wanted the best result. Only passing wasn’t good enough for me.

“Agreed. I’ll do it.” And it seemed it wasn’t for Victoria either. She interacted with the investigation screen and opened the report file.

We had been side by side the entire day. Now when I had a moment to go through it again, I realised we had worked like we were one. Usually thinking the same way, but when something hadn’t caught my attention, she had noticed. And vice versa when she had missed a detail, my thorough eye hadn’t. The boys went along pretty smoothly for most of the day too, but there had been a moment or two when they hadn’t seen eye to eye. Fortunately, it hadn’t stood in their way, and they had handled their part of the investigation well. When Victoria and I had figured out the art dealer and owner of the house was an Ex-KGB agent who leads an international human trafficking and drug operation, the boys had found the burglar. The neighbour had a compulsive buying disorder which resulted in tremendous debt. She convinced her boyfriend to break in and steal what’s worthy.

And finally, the flood. Its purpose hadn’t been to discard possible evidence. The art dealer was overly attached to his luxurious carpets. And the neighbour’s boyfriend who was extremely jealous of him just wanted to do some emotional damage, too. 

Victoria was almost done with the report. I couldn’t help myself and wondered how it would be spending all my days like this. And I actually liked the thought. The thought of her standing by my side while bringing the worst criminals to justice. Involuntarily I reached for the camera resting on top of the CSI kit and took a picture of her. She turned to me and smirked.

“What are you doin’?”

“I see the world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wildflower. I hold infinity in the palm of my hand and eternity in an hour.” I said, and she wasn’t smirking anymore. She slowly walked towards me and took the camera. But she didn’t look at the pic I had taken, just put it aside, her eyes connected with mine the whole time.

“What. Are. You. Doing.” She repeated in a husky voice, but this time, it wasn’t a question just a statement. I was unable to look her in the eyes anymore. Because of her lips. She bit them softly. I leant closer, and closer and--

“Hey girls, we hit the jackpot,” Drew yelled, knocking on the glass wall. “Come here ASAP.”

It showed the boys had gotten into the laptop and found evidence about other people involved, including high-ranking politicians. Victoria amended the report, including new significant details, and two minutes before the countdown ended, she processed it. All screens in the lab went dark, and I could tell we were all dreading that we screwed up. But then a message popped up, the _simulation ended successfully,_ that caused an imminent burst of happiness and relief. 

“Oh, man. I think we’ve just solved the biggest case in Dutch history.” Drew beamed and brought all of us into the huge team hug.

“If it was a real case.” Victoria laughed.

“Hey, don’t be Kris and spoil all the fun.” He released the grip, and I didn’t doubt he couldn’t wait to share everything we had done with his outspoken girlfriend.

 _“Yeah, yeah. You did it.”_ Professor Heywood appeared on the screen. _“No surprise. I still have something to say to you. Go to the Briefing room B. But first, grab your favourite portable food and then we will have a word.”_

The portable food reminded me of our initial exam again and how long way I had come since that day. The last question in the entrance test we had all taken before we had been accepted for our studies had been: What are your two most favourite meals that you can hold in one hand and still work on the case with another. It was ridiculous, but because the little note below ( _not answering will result in failing the test)_ I mentioned BLT and PBJ. The BLT had been delivered to me for lunch so I guess now I could expect PBJ. On our way to the briefing room B, we met the other group. They looked as drained as we did but equally excited, which made me happy because they had been successful, too.

* * *

I caught myself staring at Victoria. She tried to banish her yawning, not with much success. Despite the insane eight hours behind us, despite her worn-out expression, I still found her beautiful. “Sleepy much?” I nudged her shoulder.

“Nah. No way. My eyes are begging me to close them, and my brain is in an impending risk of being shut down, but I’m definitely not sleepy.” She teased.

“It’s the amount of sugar. Two snickers, oh, girl. Your insulin went up rapidly and then down even quicker. What a spike! That’s why you’re sleepy.” Warren pointed out.

“I’m not sleepy, pal. But you’re right I should have only had one.” She became solemn for a moment. “So, I could shut your witty mouth with another one.” But replaced her seriousness with laughter in no time. 

“Are you sure you’re not sleepy?” I was quicker than _Warren’s witty mouth._ “Because there is a nice soft spot in here,” I glanced at my lap, “perfect for a moment of rest.” I didn’t know what seemed more shocked. Her deep green eyes or my inner voice who was screaming at me about what I had just dared to suggest in the room full of people. 

“If you’re not up for it, I absolutely am.” Zach challenged Victoria, and he not only saved me from the embarrassment by turning it into a game but also made her take the decision I approved, eventually.

“Too late, sucker.” She pulled her chair closer next to mine then another one right next to hers, creating space for her legs and laid down on my lap winking at him. “This spot is already taken.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Zach faked his disappointment briefly but then smiled at me impishly. “Come, geek boy, this party is only for two. Let’s have some disgusting coffee from the Vending machine in the hall.” He added, but the disgusting coffee had to wait because Professor Heywood called their group. So only four of us left in the briefing room B. Drew and Trevor in front and me and Victoria in our little fairy-tale at the back.

I found it unbelievable. A couple of months ago, Victoria had been lying in Zach's lap, and I secretly hated the thought that they were a thing. Now she was laying in mine, and I very openly loved the idea that we could be a thing. I reached for her hand and laced our fingers. Her eyes remained closed, but the smile rose on her face.

“I’m proud of you, Max. Of all of us. But mostly you. The clues you found helped us solve the hidden case.” She said.

“Well, you helped me in the first place, so I had no other option than to give something back and use my super skills to help you solve the hidden case,” I admitted. The very beginning of our investigation had been dreadful. For a brief moment, I had really believed it was over for me. But once I had gotten into the case, I had become a thousand times stronger, more resilient. I had even completely forgotten about the water and felt absolutely comfortable in my shoes. Well, Kristine’s shoes for that matter. And the feeling lingered. Because having Victoria lying on my lap did wonders to my brain. To my body. To my whole existence. 

We were enjoying this little moment of peace and pleasure until Victoria spoke again. "Max?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing? What's going on between us?" She asked again her eyes still closed. It was a nice change that she didn’t use the word _friend_ when referring to us. 

The fingers of my free hand run up her arm stroking it gently, then played with her silky blond hair. _What was going on between us? Did I know?_ I’d never experienced anything like this. I’d never thought I would desire to. Yet, here I was yearning to have her as close as possible as often as I could. To touch her, to share things with her. And most importantly, not give a damn about the world around.

“Something beautiful. Exhilarating. Thrilling. Enthralling. Something I don’t want to stop.” Every word I spoke came out with a lowering voice, which became a whisper eventually. Like I was afraid to go any further. But did it really scare me? If so, what precisely? That my feelings for her meant I had strayed and abandoned my initial purpose here at the Academy? Or was I terrified I had misunderstood her kindness and friendly behaviour for attraction?

Victoria slowly shifted to her sitting position, never releasing my hand.

“Do you like me?” Wowser. It seemed like she had definitely dropped the let’s just be friends nonsense. But her straightforward question left me speechless. I had realised when my mouth opened, but the words weren’t coming.

Was I fond of her? Holly freaking Gawd, absolutely, yes. I liked her smell, her warmness, the softness of her touch. I liked how her forehead wrinkled when she was fully focused on something. How she bit her lower lip. I liked how she didn’t hesitate to stand up to Professor Heywood, but not with empty words, just facts-based arguments. I liked how overprotective she could be about those she cared about. Like when with Zach. Or Steph. The scene that I had involuntarily witnessed on the 14th of February, almost four months ago, when Victoria was leaving Steph’s room had left its mark in on my brain, that couldn’t be wiped off. _I think I’m in love with you._ She said those words being all tender and sweet and even while I had been reluctant to admit it back then, it had been the first time ever I’d actually yearned someone would say that to me too. Which brought me to the point where I liked who I have been becoming when she was around. Thus, now I could see that the wish someone would say those words to me had actually been the desire that she would say it. And that’s why telling her I liked her sounded like one big fucking understatement. 

“Sweet Jesus.” As a response to a lack of reaction from my side, Victoria rubbed her exhausted face nervously. “I sound like some twelve-year-old schoolboy who’s embarrassing himself in front of the most beautiful girl in the class, don’t I?” She rolled her eyes in disbelief. That I liked too, by the way. When she was rolling her eyes after something entirely absurd happened or had been said. “Fuck. Of course, you don’t like me. It would be so stupid. Not to mention, it would ruin everything. I would ruin everything. And--”

“Stop. Just stop!” I held her shoulders. Which worked. So, when she was silenced, I moved one of my hands to her cheek and stroked it gently. It softened her troubled face. “I’m not gonna lie. I’ve never liked anyone before. Well, not like this.” It was a good start, I could tell. Although instead of keeping things simple, I overcomplicated them. “I mean I had this purely platonic crush on Chloe, but…” Oh fuck, Victoria flinched. _Way to go, Max, bringing a crush on someone else to the conversation. That’s how you show interest._ It was imbecile of me, but I just wanted to be honest with her. Although maybe I should be clearer about what I intended to say. And perhaps even leave explanations of the complicated issues in my head, like my past inability to connect with anyone for later. Much much later.

“Max, maybe I shouldn’t start with this.” She moved to another chair, creating a distance between us. “We should talk about this another time. Or never.” I swore she was about to stand up and leave me to my misery, and I only knew one thing. I couldn’t allow that.

“I thought you were drop-dead gorgeous.” I spat. She stared at me in awe. “On the first day, when I saw you running out of the car, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” She slightly shook her head, as if she had no idea what I was talking about. “And then I saw a handsome man who caught up with you and brought you into his arms. And this weird nasty feeling of discomfort resided in my guts for a moment.” Victoria was still surprised, although now she remembered and desired to know more. It was all in her eyes. “I had no idea where that gruesome feeling came from or what it meant. It took me some time to realise that I was jealous, for the first time ever. As absurd and unbelievable as it sounds, I was jealous of some handsome guy who was hugging a girl I’d never seen before in my life.”

“Jamie is my brother, silly.” Victoria chuckled visibly relieved.

“Yeah, this information is known to me now, but it wasn’t before,” I added, feeling much lighter too. “So, will I have a second chance to explain, how crazy I--”

 _“Cat’s curiosity team. Your turn.”_ The console in the front of the briefing room interrupted our reconciliation. _“Meet me in the Briefing room A.”_

Well, damn it. We gathered in the briefing room A, where four chairs awaited us. And Professor Heywood sitting behind the front desk. He started off with a couple of mistakes we had done but then praised our combined effort mostly. He also dared to mention no one had gotten such a high score at the field test before. Except team Swan’s song but we beat them by 5 points. Don’t get me wrong, it made me feel beyond excited. But I would be even happier if he finally released us and I could go back to my unfinished business with Victoria.

“So, I hope I’ll meet you tonight at Vortex, and we’ll celebrate together. We have a reservation.” He concluded. The first of my wishes was granted. The second had to wait a bit longer. Because when we re-entered the hall, Kristine stole Victoria from me at once and never stopped talking about how they needed to prepare for the evening.

“See ya at Vortex at nine?” Victoria turned to me before she was dragged away.

“You bet.” I smiled softly thinking about something unthinkable. _What will I wear for the evening?_

* * *

_“See, Max. This is exactly the reason why your wardrobe should be at least a bit more diverse. In case you have a date.”_ Rachel’s face on the cell’s screen was unable to hide her unrest any longer. As if it was her who was going out on a Friday’s night.

“Slow down, Rach. I told you. It’s not a date. We’re all going out to celebrate a successful first year at Academy. That’s it.” But to be honest, I wasn’t the calmest person either.

_“Whatever. Anyway, I have an idea. You go down the hall and knock on the door 223. The girl that lives there. Juliet… Watson, I think. She studies theatre art and has an eye for fashion. Ask her to lend you something nice.”_

“Rachel, seriously, what are you smoking? You can’t possibly believe I’ll go ask some stranger and borrow her stuff. My socially awkward self usually stutters when asking a barista for extra sugar.”

_“Not anymore, Super Max. You knocked down those assholes the last time in Amsterdam, remember? And you also asked Victoria to lay on your lap today. Old Max is dead. Long live the new Max. Besides Juliet is not a stranger, I befriended her when I’ve visited you after your PTSD episode in January. Take me with you.”_

“Urgh, fine. Okay. But you’ll do the talking.”

Rachel just pouted, and I needed to muster all my social skills to convince myself that knocking on door number 223 was a good idea. The light brown-haired girl might be a stranger to me, but she definitely wasn’t a stranger to fashion.

“Hi. Juliet, right?” The girl nodded. “Rachel Amber wants to speak with you.” I passed her the phone. And a few moments later, I was engaged in one of my least favourite activities. Trying on clothes. The winning outfit consisted grey jeans, black leather jacket and a white V-neck top with a V that revealed too much of my… Well, let's just say it all fitted perfectly with my Converses. Needless to say, I hated the outfit. Because I was sure, Victoria would know what I was trying to achieve the moment she saw me. And I loved it. Because the moment Victoria would see me, she will enjoy how outstandingly it worked. Damn. It was really happening. Technically it has been happening for weeks now. But only today I got a bulletproof confirmation that it hadn’t been happening just in my head. And suddenly this realisation felt too much, too soon. So much, that I actually reminded myself of the option where I still could back out.

* * *

**Victoria Chase**

**Friday, May 29, Day 256, Year 1**

I checked my armband. 22:02 was the time on the display. I checked the phone, too and there were no new messages. We were supposed to meet at nine. Everyone was already here, including Professor Heywood, Professor Jiwe, Doctor Dhark and Professor Palmer. Everyone except for Max. No one is an hour late and still turns up.

To be honest, it was a lovely evening, enjoyable. It was the easiest thing to have fun with others. Even Professor Heywood had opened up to us and told the tale how a religious fanatic Lisbeth Jones had caused the incident when his sight was irreparably damaged. Usually, I would have liked to know more about his police career, and what made him the man I despised and admired at the same time. But this wasn’t the moment. I simply couldn’t stop thinking about Max and why she bailed on us. To my surprise, I didn’t freak out about it. I guessed I just finally accepted this curse, where no girl I like will ever return my feelings without blowing me off right away. Although, I couldn’t just sit here and have fun while the sole thing I wanted to do was sleep it off. To wake up tomorrow and forget about the whole Max situation. Besides Jamie was coming back from fucking China. It’s going to be the best distraction ever, to finally spend time with my big brother. But my sneaky departure was a difficult task. I couldn’t just stand up and announce, “I’m leaving”. It was too early for that. I bet Zach wouldn’t let me. Or Kristine. Especially Kristine. A more sophisticated plan was required for this situation.

“Warren, will you please take care of my bag. I need to use the bathroom.” 

“Sure thing, Vic. You don’t need to worry.” He was a sweetheart, and my bag was safe with him. He could bring it to me tomorrow. I didn’t need the phone (with no messages from Max), anyway. And I had already grabbed the keys from it. Very satisfied with my sneak out plan I manoeuvred around Warren, Kristine and Drew out of our big round booth and instead of the bathroom I headed straight to the exit. 

“Where are you going?” Fuck. My overly attached _girl-friend_ Kristine appeared right behind me.

“Need some fresh air.” I lied

“You said you’re going to the bathroom.” How in hell she had overheard that, I wondered. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Also, how could she know this? “You can’t leave, what about your date--”

“Kris, for fuck’s sake, there is no date.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Okay. I didn’t want to do this, but Drew told me about how you almost kissed her today.” That freaking traitor. I decided I’ll deal with him later, but what couldn’t be postponed was Kris’ interference in things she knew nothing about.

“Sorry to rain on your parade but look around, will you? Do you see Max, anywhere? No. You know why? Because she’s not here and she’s not coming. End. Of. Story. So, would you kindly go back to Drew and enjoy your evening. And let me enjoy mine. In bed. Alone. Sleeping.” She was disarmed by my resolute words and probably also yearned to be back with Drew, so she finally released me. 

Nevertheless, it showed that it wasn’t my time to leave, yet. Before I reached the front door, Max entered. I stopped in my tracks, but she took another two steps, so we ended up pretty close, anyway. For an indefinite amount of time, we both stayed speechless. Couldn’t know why she was at a loss of words. And couldn’t make myself admit, her cleavage made me dumbstruck.

“Hi. Hello.” Max finally spoke. “Going somewhere?” I opened my mouth. Then closed it. What did she ask? I had no clue. All my systems disconnected. I just stared at her, captured effortlessly by her unique, compelling beauty. “If so, I need to tell you something first.”

“O-kay.” I managed to engage myself in the conversation. But I realised quickly that talking won’t be involved when she put her hands on the back of my neck and pulled me into the urgent kiss. There was no introduction, no hesitation. It was fervent and wild and greedy. And when it stopped, I realised there was no air left in my lungs. She moved her palms to the side of my face, and her thumbs swept across my cheekbones. It was so tender and caring. Like she was afraid she would break me. And then she kissed me again. If we were standing in the middle of the volcano right after an eruption, I wouldn’t notice. Nothing could reach my perception, at the moment. Just Max Caulfield kissing me like there was no tomorrow. As the kiss progressed, it became less urgent and more sensual. Slower and slower until it ceased. 

“So, I’ve told you.” She said as her hand slipped into mine. “Now, you know.” 

“You definitely improved your skill at explaining things.” I chuckled and licked my lips. They were tingling with sensation. And her taste lingered. 

“I tried my best.” She added almost shyly. “While I’m finally here, I guess I should do some socialisation with the others, too. Will you join me, or are you still leaving?”

I shook my head and raised our linked hands as a confirmation that leaving wasn’t an option because she had got me hooked.

“Great. Amazing, actually. But would you mind grabbing a drink at the bar first? I could use one. Or two.” Amusingly, she sounded nervous. Now. Not before when she had kissed me in front of the whole pub, but now. After. “You know I’ve never done this before. Like arriving at the party with… with…” Her thumb stroked the back of my hand while she was struggling with finding the right words to address me.

“With someone as stunning, clever and funny as me?” I laughed.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant.” Max shook off some of her nerves and dragged me to the bar. “So whatcha drinking?”

“Johnnie Walker.”

“What’s that?" She asked, and first I thought, she was messing with me, but her surprise was genuine.

“Scotch.” I educated her with a big smile on my face. “What do you drink? Usually.”

“Nothing. I do not drink. Usually. But when I find myself in a situation when there is no other option, I drink what the person on my right drinks.” She said with a serious face.

“Oh, you’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” I pretended I was gonna hit her shoulder.

“I am not.” She predicted my plan, and my attacking hand also ended up in her possession. Now she was smiling, too. “And you better work on your reflexes.” She pulled me in.

“Or what?” I recounted my lips dangerously close to hers. “Will you kiss me again?”

“I might.” She was about to tease me, I could tell. Before she _might,_ I kissed her first. Damn. I had been kissed before. Some had been okay-ish, some terrific. But there was something extra about kissing Max Caulfield. Unadulterated something. A little piece that was missing in me all this time, and I suddenly didn’t understand how I could be without it. “Alright, alright. You win this one.” She spoke into the kiss, and her hand slid around my waist, reducing the space between us to nothing. “But wait until we are out of here and--”

“Ladies, hellooo.” More than a bit tipsy, Zach found his way between us and cried happily. “Drinks on me, what’s it gonna be?” I wanted to slap him. At first. “Yo, Max. You finally came back down to earth and noticed how sweet and sexy and smart Victoria Chase is. Good for youuu.” But unexpectedly he became another hardcore shipper, right behind Kristine.

“Two Johnnie Walkers no more comments on our behalf. Can you manage?” I tried to settle him down a bit.

“Two Johnnie Walkers for the cutest couple in here.” My effort was in vain, and Zach yelled at the bartender super raved.

“Is everyone going to gush about us the same way he does?” Max asked, half worried half amused.

“I bet Kristine will. And you can't count out Warren, I guess. Oh, and Dana. I’m sure she will be all fired up too.”

“In that case, make mine a double.” She sighed.

“Your wish is my command.” Zach settled things with the bartender and turned back to Max. “Just be nice to her, will you? Not like that Steph bitch!” And started with a speech that made me want to slap him again. “She’s not messing around; Max. Victoria Chase is a keeper. She’s a queen. Treat her like one, and you’ll be her… well queen, I guess. Whatever. Zach’s out.” He laughed and grabbed his gin tonic but didn’t keep us company anymore. Instead, he went back to the rest of the party.

“Sorry about his rambling. I guess he has had enough for tonight.” We had only kissed ten minutes ago for the first time. Max definitely didn’t need to know I’m the kind of girl who could fatally fall for her in ten seconds. If she continues to be so adorable and funny and sexy and… holy hell. If she keeps...

“It’s cool.” She pressed our lips together for one more kiss. “Since it’s me who’s kissing you and not him.” And emptied the glass witch scotch on ice at one go. “Oh, Gawd, this is strong.”

“Don’t worry. You’re still way behind Zach.” I finished mine and took her hand. It all felt so perfectly splendid. I found myself doubting how it could be real. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to...” I trailed off and glanced at our classmates not entirely sure what we didn’t have to do. Go there? Go there holding hands? Getting involved? She had said she’d never done this before. But honestly, neither had I. And the last time I had thought I finally could have it all, it all had gone to shit.

“Well, Zach said that you’re a keeper.” Max reminded me. “If it’s true, and if you’re planning to keep me,” she looked at our linked hands, “I prefer to get over with everyone’s teasing sooner rather than later.”

“Wise words.” I praised and decided to take a leap. To get my head in the game again hoping this time, I won’t end up in shambles.

When we arrived at our booth, a couple of mildly surprised looks and wide grins came to our welcome. Still, no one had said anything about the evolution of our… connection. Neither Zach nor Kris. Which made things between Max and me even more settled. Everyone just took us as we were. As the evening went on, I joined in on the conversation occasionally, laughed when I found something funny, but Max had most of my attention. When our professors left, significantly more drinks came our way, and the party mood became wilder and wilder. And the more Max had, the more conversational she became but to my pleasure also more cuddly. So, except for ongoing handholding, I was rewarded occasionally with other cute acts of affection. First with a kiss on the neck, on the cheek, then pop kiss, and the most recent full mind-blowing one. It was when the buzzing caused by the Johnnie Walkers became almost even with the buzzing Max closeness had caused. 

“So, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to impose,” eventually it was Dana who failed to hold her curiosity in check, “but how in the hell did you two happen?” The other talks around the table ceased, and it was clear everyone would not mind finding out.

“Apparently, when I finally came back down to earth and noticed how sweet and sexy and smart Victoria Chase is.” Slightly drunk Max used Zach’s words and high fived him.

“Oh, come one. Give us some of the juicy details.” Kris prompted. I didn’t expect any less from her.

How did we happen? Technically, the first time I consciously admitted that there was an attraction between us, and it could very well be mutual had been on Monday. But frankly, there were so many signs I had ignored that went far into the past. To the very first day when we had met.

“It started the first day, at the Academy.” I blurted out, confusing everyone myself included. “Remember how we bumped into each other?” Maybe this should be said in private, but the level of intoxication prevented me from being more subtle. Although in our little bubble, for now, I was talking only to Max. “You stopped me in my tracks. I thought I’d kiss you right away if the circumstances had been different.”

“Woohoo, love at first sight.” Zach shrieked and raised his glass.

“You‘re fucking with me, aren’t you? Victoria Chase! You tease!” Max ignored him and leaned closer to me, trying to make this conversation a bit secluded at least. The tone of her voice was light, but there was some urgency behind her eyes.

“Am I?” I challenged her being entirely sure I wasn’t.

“Yeah, yes you are. Because before my fluffy Panda Monk saved your undead rogue’s ass in Forsaken caverns you didn’t even know I existed.” She smirked.

“Jerk. You’re the jerkiest jerk, Max Caulfield.” I grabbed her V-neck top and made her think I was going to kiss her but didn’t in the end. “I supported your idea in Heywood's class when we beat the boys. I voted for your flawless photo; I was watching you doing all those perfect reps in the gym.” Fuck, how I had been able to suppress this insane enticement, I wondered. “So, if you have any evidence against me, use it now or--” She brought no evidence. Just, her lips to mine with an intensity that made the world around us disappear for the moment.

“Hey, hey girls. Hands on the table.” Kristine laughed. “Maybe we should go dancing. I feel like dancing. And you could vent out some of your sexual energy on the floor.” 

Dana was up for dancing too, but from the male part of our group only Drew showed excitement about the thought. 

“Are you coming?” Max asked, and I must have stared at her in awe.

“I did not consider you a dancer.”

“Am not. Never danced before. But this Johnnie Walker guy is telling me to, you’re gonna teach me some moves.” 

So, we joined Kris, Dana, Drew and a reluctant Trevor but didn’t move with them downstairs. To the underground floor of the Vortex that worked functioned as a club on Friday and Saturday nights. The familiar face got in the way.

“Hi, Vicky! It’s good to see you again.” It was Hayden, the S.W.A.T. guy. He intended to give me a hug, I supposed, but Max intervened.

“Touch her, and I will kill you.” Her playful, silly mood changed at once when she stood between us. Something was telling me that the promise of death wasn’t a joke. 

“Easy, easy.” Hayden raised his hands. “No touching, just saying hi to my old friend.”

Max didn’t seem to be appeased. His words seemed genuine, but I wouldn’t call us friends. Our last interaction ended in disaster. He had apologised, but we hadn’t spoken since. And I also hadn’t seen him for in months because in January he had passed the S.W.A.T. exam and was a full member now. It was strangely appealing to see Max in protective mode. 

“It’s alright, freckles.” I softly pulled her back and kissed her hair. “He’s not a threat.”

“K.” She muttered, but I could say she stayed vigilant.

“So, what’s up with you, Hayden?” I tried to be polite, but frankly, I couldn’t care less. For his own sake, I hoped he had no intention of bringing up another crazy scheme or proposal.

“I’m great. Awesome, actually.” He chirped. “Oh, and this is my boyfriend. Lars.” Lars, the men’s health magazine cover material, stood up from behind and offered his hand. 

“A pleasure to meet you, Victoria.” He obviously knew who I was. “Without you, it wouldn’t have been us.” He smiled at Hayden, and it all clicked.

“So, you’re out now? Wow. Good for you. What about your family?”

Hayden shared the story about his coming out and a lot of bumps on the road, but they had accepted him eventually. He thanked me for my role in the whole process and sincerely apologised for his dickhead behaviour. Max didn’t show much enthusiasm when I introduced them. Although she restrained herself from more, _I’ll kill you_ remarks. 

“Have fun girls, it was nice to meet you.” Lars and Hayden finally left us alone, and Max clung on to me even more tightly.

“I still have my eye on him.” She expressed her disdain and right moments after that, it was replaced with tenderness when she left a couple of kisses on my neck. 

“It’s cute. How protective you are, but he’s not a threat really.”

“He tried to hurt you before.”

“You-- you saw that?”

“If Zach wouldn't have intervened, I think I would go full beast mode. I didn’t believe it back then, but now I’m sure I would. I wanted to hurt him.” She said, and I could see that every time I thought I couldn’t possibly be more into her, something she did proved me wrong.

“What’s beast mode, freckles?”

“My dark side. Something like Mr Hyde, or Hulk. I would rather go for Hulk.”

“Wanna show me?”

“No. I hope you'll never see me like that.” Max shrugged and brought my hand to her lips to kiss it gently. “Now, let’s do some dancing. Or you’ll dance. I’ll make weird moves that’ll make you laugh.”

I laughed before she could make any moves and followed her downstairs. Max wasn’t lying. She definitely wasn’t a dancer, so she spent most of our ten minutes on the dancefloor with her arms around my neck leaning into me. I couldn’t complain. I didn’t care much about the rhythmic music around us. Honestly, I didn’t care about anything, just her body pressed against mine. And since I recognised her not so warm relationship with dancing, I slowly navigated us from the centre of the room to the corner. Swaying to the place where the music wasn’t so loud anymore, and the darkness secluded us from the lively mood of Friday night.

Max's face was pressed into the crook of my neck all the time, but I supposed she was very much aware of what I was doing. Because her hands were gently moving lower and lower until one of them slipped under my shirt.

“I don’t think you realise how much I want you.” Her lips spoke pressed to my ear as my back hit the wall.

I didn’t think SHE realised how long I had been longing for her, how many stupid shitty things I had done, just to suppress this hunger and how much I wished, that the year we had just wasted could be rewound. And with all this knowledge I would adore her from day one. I doubted any words would be sufficient to express this thought. And frankly, I didn’t feel like speaking at all. 

Neither did Max, that was for sure because her daring mouth found mine and her soft fingers started playing tenderly with the bare flesh of my belly. The sweetest tremor was surging through my insides. As our tongues rallied, again and again. As our lips biting each other’s’ in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t stop myself. I wouldn’t even if it was the last thing I was about to do. I must have more of Max. I grabbed her ass. The ass shaped by too many front lunges and squats that I had witnessed her doing throughout the year. The firm perfect ass that fit precisely into the palms of my hands. I snatched it and pulled her closer between my legs.

I heard her whimper into my mouth. I sensed her hand ascending along my burning skin. I whimpered just as much when it got to my swollen nipple. The bra was nothing but a snow barricade against the fireball that Max’s fingers possessed.

“Wan—wanna get out of here?” I spoke into the kiss, unable to break it.

“Per—haps.” She struggled with the same issue. “Do—do you… have… something better to offer.” She breathed. “Than a… than a vibrant club?”

“Bed…room… where…where we… we would… could be…clothe—less. Naked. Where I—I…” My thoughts vanished into the bliss Max’s sensuality had caused.

She didn’t reply to this suggestion, but after a moment she ceased the kissing. I’d say none of us was particularly happy about the necessity of this separation. The promise of what was about to come was a sufficient alternative, though.

I dragged Max upstairs to the pub part of the Vortex, and then I saw her. Steph. She looked absolutely devastated. And only needed a moment to persuade me to leave with her.

* * *

**Max Caulfield**

**Saturday, May 30, Day 257, Year 1**

“Vic, Victoria. Your bag.” Warren shouted and caught up with her. She didn’t notice. It was the other girl who took the bag.

 _Fuck._ So, the moment I was convinced our fusion was complete, Warren showed up with Steph by his side. And after a thirty second conversation with her, Victoria left. She left with the _Already desperate to touch me, where I’m touching myself?_ Steph. With the _I think I’m in love with you,_ Steph. She just fucking left me feeling absolutely confused.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Did I really believe I had a chance with her?_ I could cry my eyes off. Or calm down a bit and try to figure this out. Or I could find my new friend Johnnie Walker at the bar and instead of de-confusion I could get royally hammered. You can imagine which option I chose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, again, at the very early stage of creating this story, the chapter had a slightly different conclusion.
> 
> It was when the draft of it was basically nothing but notes. I intended to interrupt the kiss a second before it was going to happen. Oh, and you also maybe remember I mentioned I planned to tell the story just from Max perspective first and then just after that from Victoria’s.
> 
> But I asked myself if I would want to read such narrative. Well, the answer was no. _No, you crazy sadist stop giving them such a hard time and let them finally kiss!_ 😊 So, I let them. Once, twice, dozens of times during this memorable evening. And despite a little road bump, I’m looking forward to every single kiss that is going to come.


	21. How was your Summer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank tkyash again, who kindly helped with editing this chapter as well. Thank you! Christmas gift came sooner this year, it seems. 😊

**Victoria Chase**

**September 10, Thursday, Day 361, Year 2**

I opened the door to my Hauge apartment, and the first thing that got my attention was the lack of heavy boots in the shoe cabinet. Just pumps, slip-ons and trainers and none of them were mine. I neither had been in here, nor had I seen Kris for the whole summer. We had texted on a regular basis. But there simply had been no time for more. After Steph had found me in the Vortex, everything had gone crazy. My parents couldn’t get in touch with me, so dad had called Taylor, and she and Steph had done the only thing they could do. They had split up and tried to find me in person, to tell me the news. The plane from China with Jamie on board had been shot down over Ukraine. The chances were close to none, but what had started as my worst nightmare had ended with a miracle. Three passengers had made it alive. And one of them was my brother.

In June and July, I had basically lived in the hospital in Jamie’s room. Then when he had finally been released in August, I had stayed close to him in our parents’ house. And the last two weeks I had spent in Sweden with Taylor, who had been there for me the whole time. When the initial prognosis had said he was not going to make it. When Jamie had woken up, when he had smiled for the first time or started with rehabilitation, she had stood by my side and had lifted me up when I couldn’t. So, both Jamie and Steph (who btw. had lifted Taylor up whenever she had been too tired of lifting me up) had insisted that we deserve a vacation. Just the two of us together again.

I had been reluctant at first, but we had a great time in Sweden eventually with a lot of Fikas. A couple of relaxing days had been a blessing because this summer had totally drained me. But now all the toils had stayed in the past. Jamie’s recovery was going great, Taylor was back in my life full-time and tomorrow I’ll officially become a part of the police corps. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Kris appeared in the hall and threw her arms around me, squeezing me hard as if she hadn’t seen me for a lifetime. Or I thought it was Kris. Even if there was no trace of her long-dyed hair. Without tons of make-up, I could even see a few subtle freckles on her face, and instead of everything black, she wore pink yoga pants and a white tank top. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more.” I freed myself from her clutch and scanned her from head to toe. “But what I definitely didn’t miss and won’t is the excess of black. Good Job, hun! What happened?”

“I grew up. I guess.” She shrugged blushing a little, and there was no denying this new style suited her a thousand times better.

“You look astonishing,” I reassured her. “I hope it’s because everything’s going well with you.” I really did. From our vivid texting through summer, I knew she had stood up to her father, and it had brought her his respect. Her twin brother had been released from a psychiatric asylum, and his condition had improved significantly. And last but not least she and Drew weren’t together anymore, but they had separated amicably. They both had agreed their relationship didn’t make sense because they were too different.

“I want to believe it is.” Kris said, being quite pensive.

“Drew?” I must have ask. Of course, I understood it was way better to separate than force a connection that was never meant to last in the first place. Still, it didn’t make the whole thing less sad. Because no one would convince me they didn’t love each other. Alas, love wasn't an answer to every question and surely so many times it wasn’t enough.

“No. Yes. Well, it’s strange to not be with him like _with him_ anymore, but we sucked as a couple. So, this is for the best. And we are still friends. That’s great. Sometimes friendship is a much better option, you know.” She didn’t sound utterly convincing. I’d love to offer her a hand but didn’t intend to push.

“Kris, if you wanna talk, I’m here.”

“There is not much to talk about, really. I was an angry girl lying to herself that the only thing that can’t appease the anger is a fight. Against everything and everyone that made me angry, except for the real reason for my troubles. My father. It was pointless. I thought I was making the world a better place when, in reality, I was just seeking approval. For the wrong reasons and from the wrong people. You were right, approval and love are not the same thing. Love is absolution, and how could I ever achieve anything when I didn’t love myself in the first place. I have to learn how to be happy by myself. I have to change myself if I want to make the world a better place. I can only find an absolution, someone who would love me when I love myself and stop being angry about everything.”

“Oh my, did you join some yoga cult?” I teased.

“No silly. I had a lot of great sex in the summer. There are significant benefits of being single, you know. You can fuck whoever you want. And a lot of sex means less stress, less anger and more good vibes.” She restored some of her past antics but without exaggerating.

“Whatever floats your boat, Krissy.” I smiled, and with her help, I moved all the luggage to my room.

“Do you know what we could do? Sushi delivery and that bottle of red wine I brought from Apulia. You in?”

“Hell, why not. I can unpack later.”

“Cool.” Kris cheered and pulled out her phone, checking delivery apps. “And I bet you don’t want to hear about all the great sex I had, so instead you can tell me about your cheesy rom-com love life.”

“I don’t have one, dummy. As if you didn’t know that.” I retorted on my way to the kitchen.

“Last time I saw you, your situation could pretty much beat any rom-com I have watched. With sweet and dazzling Ms Max Caulfield head over heels for you.”

Max Caulfield.

I had ordered myself to lock her in the safest safe and not bring her up until absolutely necessary. But I’m going to meet her tomorrow. That couldn’t be avoided. And as Kris had said before, the more I run from it, the harder it’ll bite me. I definitely needed to face what our reunion could bring.

“Oh, please. It was a whim for her. Endorphins, perhaps. We were all just having fun that night, enjoying the fact that we made it. It didn’t mean anything, and it’s absolutely fine by me.” I summed up while opening the bottle of wine. 

“V, really? What did I do to deserve such crap? “Kris snatched the bottle from me and poured into both of the glasses. I didn’t wait to have a decent swig.

“She didn’t text, she didn’t call, relishing her vacation on a yacht at Bodensee. I can’t say how it looks from your point of view, but from where I stand neither have, I occupied her thoughts, nor has she considered that night worthy of remembering. Which is totally cool, we didn’t make any promises and frankly getting involved with someone is the last thing I need.” I stated plainly. I had only dared to check Max’s Instagram once. And it hadn’t served me well. So, I decided there was no point in being upset about something I couldn’t change.

“You left her without an explanation, not to mention accompanied by your ex-girlfriend. I understand the circumstances were unusual, but she had no idea.”

“I apologised. And clarified my actions. And she wrote, 

_It’s horrendous. I’m so so sorry, Victoria. Please just stay safe. Your brother will make it. He is a fighter. You both are._ _You have my thoughts._

That’s that. Nothing else for the whole summer.”

“It took you three days to hit her up. For what it’s worth she could assume you were fucking with her.”

“Kris, I thought my brother was dead. My mother was only three doses of Valium away from a mental breakdown, and I didn’t sleep for 70 hours. Oh, and don’t even let me start about the necessity to fly to Ukraine. You know that God-forsaken country is in the middle of a civil war? So, pardon me if I was a bit occupied.” I took another mouthful of wine. If Max was mad because I hadn’t communicated the whole situation properly, I would totally understand. But I was convinced it wasn’t the case. She hadn’t even shown any indication of anger. She simply left everything that happened between us behind her.

“Easy, V. I don’t want to fight. I’m just saying don’t throw away what you had because of some wrong time wrong place issues. You’ll see tomorrow when you’ll see her. And I promise if I won’t see any spark between you, I’ll drop it. And I also won’t mention her tonight anymore. Deal?”

“I’m not going to make any deal with you. You’re Kristine Prescott. You’ll to do whatever the fuck you want, no matter what,” I smirked and finished my glass. She wasted no time to in pouring me another one.

“Hot, funny, and clever. Too bad I’m not into girls. Max Caulfield would have serious competition.” She joked, and the doorbell rang. And I was delighted the sushi would finally shut her mouth.

* * *

**Max Caulfield**

**September 11, Friday, Day 362, Year 2**

My eyes slid up to the centre console, and I realised that the car had already stopped. We must have been in the parking lot for a couple of minutes.” You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Rachel had finally dared to speak up, but I only shrugged. What could I say? To some extent, I had been thinking about her for the whole summer. About both of them.

I felt Rachel’s piercing hazel eyes on me. She had freaking three months to bring this up and hadn’t. Instead, she decided to do it now.

“Thanks for the ride.” I blurted out and escaped from her new silver Mercedes (there were merits of being a new lead and face of the Universal Hospital) before she could blink. There was no point in having this conversation. The sole reason for me being here at the Academy was to become an elite police officer. To solve Chloe’s case, to learn how to find and convict criminals like Elliot Hampden and bring them to justice. None of those goals required any counterproductive mingling with my classmates. 

I could barely take two and a half steps away from the silver Mercedes when my wrist was captured, and I was pulled back. It was naïve of me to think Rachel would let it go, just like that.

“Come on, Max. I gave you three months to figure things out, but you haven’t budged. I’m done staying silent.”

“Speak your mind then.” I knew she was going to, regardless of what I say.

“Chloe would want you to be happy.” She hit the nail. But it wasn't only about abandoning my ultimate goal and betraying Chloe.

“I am happy. I dealt with mum’s toxicity. Instead of listening to her undermining all of my decisions for the whole summer, I spent it with you in Switzerland clearly enjoying myself. But now, I’m back and should not be distracted anymore from continuing my task. I owe it to Chloe. I owe it to every victim who saw the culprit escape because of sloppy police work or because of witnesses with no guts.” I spoke vigorously.

“You’ve really changed Max, haven’t you?” Rachel said tugging a piece of my hair behind my ear. Probably one of the most visible signs of _the change._ I let it grow again. Which meant no bangs and covered shoulders.

“Haven’t we all?” I softened my attitude, and she nodded.

After Chloe had died, I stayed the same for years. Hidden in my room, solely depending on my mum’s choices. I had no life. When I had decided to come here, things had come into motion. And whether I liked it or not, thanks to Victoria Chase I’d finally embraced the potential that had been pointlessly dormant. But it had gone too far. When I’d been trying to make sense of what happened three months ago and why I’d come to this conclusion. Yes, her presence in my life had brought many great things, but the cost could eventually be too high. She was addictive, and I would have become dependent on her, wouldn’t I? I must avoid that. It had been terrible what happened to Victoria’s brother, but he was doing well, now. Everything else had settled, too. The tragedy had brought the dreamy couple Steph and Victoria back together. And I had become aware of the dangers on the road to my ultimate goal and cleared my mind. Because of that, I was able to focus on what’s important again. My studies, opening Chloe’s case and self-improving.

“Well I guess, nothing is permanent, except for change.” Rachel smiled. “I leave you to your duties.” She kissed me on my forehead and walked back to the silver Mercedes. Before she hopped in, she gave me one more appreciative look. And also, two more pearls of wisdom. “You don’t owe anything to anybody Super Max. And Victoria is not back with Steph. How can you even… Never mind. Steph and the third girl from Jamie’s Insta stories, the blond blue-eyed. They are a couple. Not Victoria and Steph. She’s not seeing anyone. And didn’t look at anyone for the whole summer. Just saying.”

“What? How do you…?” ...know. I demanded. Or tried. But the answer didn’t come. Only a wave of her hand and her wide grin behind the Mercedes’ window. And then Rachel was gone. She was just messing with me; I didn’t doubt it. Rachel had somehow found out I had been checking Victoria’s brother’s Insta stories through her phone regularly. And now she was teasing me about it. Yeah, okay I had a soft spot for Victoria Chase. But so, what? It was no big deal. She had a girlfriend, and I had my task. And even if she didn't have a girlfriend, I still had my task. And that was how it should be. Besides, last year I had done a lot of growing up and learnt how to deal with stuff like the adult person that I was. Mostly.

“Hi, Max!” Warren shouted with a big contagious smile plastered on his face. “How was your summer?” He joined me on my spot at the curb.

 _How was my summer?_ That was a good question. It’d started with Victoria leaving me. The same night I’d gotten massively hammered with Zach. It’d resulted in three days of terrible hangover. Which had been even more disastrous because I had no news about Victoria and when I’d found enough courage to call her, she was unavailable. And when she had finally texted me and explained what happened, I had already decided that some higher karmic power had intervened. And it showed me that I should stick to my original plan and not mingle with things I know nothing about. Like attraction.

Then I had gone back home and faced my mother. She, of course, had decided to remind me what’s best and safest for me, and we had had a tremendous fight about my future. She’d even taken the keys from my Volkswagen Polo and theatrically thrown them into the river just to prevent me from leaving Arcadia. Which I had done anyway, although without VW. It probably made me an awful daughter, but I hadn’t regretted it once. I was freaking 22 years old (23 in a week) and it was in my mum’s best interest to find a new hobby than to control every aspect of my life. I had talked with dad a couple of times, and unlike mum, he had understood I couldn’t live in a golden cage, forever. Yet, unlike me, he didn’t have the balls to tell her.

Anyway, Rachel had been beyond delighted when I had shown on her doorstep. She was supposed to spend summer on Ibiza with some new celebrity girlfriend of hers, but they had broken up. So instead we had headed to Switzerland together and used her actress friend’s lake house on Bodensee.

First, Rachel had been doing a lot of yoga and reading Tennyson’s poems, and I had been taking a lot of pictures and hitting a punching bag. Second, when seeking calmness and serenity had been too much, we had gone out and partied. Yeah, even I. And out of all the people having a vacation at Bodensee, detective Nyssa had to be one of them. Fortunately, she had been staying just for the weekend, so we had hooked up only once. Fuck. I really did change. Rachel was right. _So how was my summer?_ It was taking me too long to answer such a simple question. _Damn, Max. Remember that part when you learnt how to deal with things like an adult?_

“Eventful.” Was the best and safest depiction of last three months. And the most adult, I hoped.

“Oh, man, so was mine.” Warren started full of enthusiasm. And I bet he was about to reveal a lot of exciting stories, nevertheless something way more interesting caught my eye. Someone.

She was walking beside Trevor, who was showing her something on his forearm. Dana and an unknown light-brown haired girl in a summer dress were just a step ahead of them chatting vividly. 

“Look, Dana and Trevor. Let’s…” I trailed off. It wasn’t important anyway because I knew my legs were neither taking me to Dana nor to Trevor. So much for acting like an adult. Damn you Rachel, and damn your unsolicited information about other people’s relationship status.

* * *

**Victoria Chase**

**September 11, Friday, Day 362, Year 2**

Trevor was describing how he had fallen down from a skateboard when he was 13, and a rusty bar had pierced through his forearm. First, I had no idea why he brought that up. Or why he even attempted to have a conversation. We could easily walk in silence. He’d never been much of a talker. Besides, Dana and Kris would fulfil talking quota for all of us without trouble. 

“But look at it now, it’s like new. Only this tiny scar left.” He smiled reassuringly. And then I knew. Everyone in my class had probably already found out what happened to my brother. And this was Trevor’s way of showing his support to me. A bit clumsy, I must admit. But also, very sweet.

“Thanks, pal.” I appreciated his effort, maybe even blushed a little. But it was nothing compared to the mushy feeling that was about to get me.

“Guess, who?” The tender palms covered my eyes, and soft words reached my ear. I didn’t need to guess.

“Max!” I spun around maybe too eagerly but fuck it. Not even in my wildest dreams, I would have expected our reunion to be like this. 

“Detective skills are strong with you.” Her hands slid down onto my shoulders, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her strange beauty always lit a fire of lust inside me. First secretly, later more openly but hell, now she looked mesmerising. Her hair was longer, and she replaced the shabby hoodie with an entirely new hoodie.

“Maybe they will accept me for studying at the Academy. What do you think? Should I try it?”

I thought it was an easy tease, but Kristine’s look suggested I was totally flirting “We’ll meet you on the pitch guys, don’t be late. You still need to pick up the official uniform and the firearm from the requisitions office.” She prompted others to move and leave us alone. What a bitch!

“Was… was that Kristine? Wow. She looks cute as f--.” Max almost broke her neck, trying to confirm her suspicions.

“Keep your voice down, will ya?” I reached for her cheek and turned her head back gently. “I believe she won’t be delighted knowing someone addressed her as cute.”

“Right.” Max smiled and captured my hand, that was touching her face so it could linger in place for another moment. I couldn’t say I minded. Despite everything, we picked up precisely where we had left off three months ago. “So how was your summer?” Until she asked, and I backed out immediately.

“Sorry, sorry. Stupid, stupid question. I’m sorry. I’m a retard. It must be the worst summer in history of summers. It’s just… you make me… nervous and I… I’m so sorry.” She revived our connection, and even while I loved to have my hand in hers, my guts were telling me to be wary.

The better Jamie had been doing through the summer, the more I had allowed myself to think about Max. And the more I had been thinking about her, the possibility that it was going to be different with her than with every other girl had seemed less and less vital. Yes, she definitely appreciated my physical form. And I would even give her the best rating among all of them. Also, she was undoubtedly a remarkable person. But, much like all of my serious crushes before, she had her priorities pretty settled, and I somehow guessed, I’ll hardly ever be one of those. I mean, she had bailed on me the first chance she had.

“We should probably head to the requisition office. I was already late on my first day last year and got away with it. I doubt I will have the same luck twice.” I forced a smile and freed my hand.

“Are you mad at me?” Max caught up with me, and I was close to becoming mad at her, asking if I’m mad. I wasn’t. “Because I didn’t attempt to contact you for the whole summer?”

“Max, you had zero obligation to contact me, and I’m not mad that you didn’t.” I appeased myself but hiding the truth would be pointless. “Yet, I would have loved it if you did.” Either from her or from me.

“I would love to, too but…" She wavered. "...you had your girlfriend by your side. It would be so awkward and so third-wheeling and...”

I sighed. “There was no girlfriend, what would make you think--”

“You left with her without a word!”

“I’m sorry, I truly am, but I believe I explained,” I pulled out my phone and could tell Max didn’t take any liking to my move.

“No, no, please don’t read it. I--”

I read all thirteen messages I had sent to Max when it had been confirmed Jamie was going to be alive. I’d apologised, described my deepest feelings for my brother and regret that his accident intervened with what we started that night.

“ _I’m so so sorry, Victoria. Please just stay safe. Your brother will make it. He is a fighter. You both are. You have my thoughts._ That was your reply, Max. _The thoughts?_ ” I had hoped she’ll elaborate later. That maybe it had been too much, and she needed time to process it. But nothing else ever came. “So, it’s cool you didn’t stay in touch but don’t blame it on Steph. And if you can’t be honest with me about your reasons, just be honest with yourself.”

We reached the requisition office, and I raised my hand so the scanner could interact with my armband.

“Victoria Chase, Service number 8727.” The requisition officer read from his terminal, and I nodded. He disappeared for a moment and came back with the garment bag, a pair of oxford shoes and the holster with the Walther P99Q NL. “Sorry for the inconvenience.” He apologised. Our ceremonial uniform was different to the one regular cadets wore. We were supposed to obtain it a week ago and come already dressed for our initiation. There had been some issues with the contractor, however, so the uniforms had been delivered only yesterday. “Welcome to the corps, constable.” The requisition officer concluded and then repeated the same process with Max.

“I convinced myself it was about Steph. It was easier to hold someone else responsible. If she took you in the first place, I wasn’t really letting you go.” Max said while we were walking to the annex. “But you’re right. My decision had very little to do with Steph but more with Chloe.” She added as we entered the sports complex, but it seemed she wasn’t even talking to me.

I couldn’t say I liked what I heard, but she was honest, which was admirable. “You know what you want Max, and work hard to achieve it. Your priorities are settled. I’m not one of them, I get it, and I won’t hold it against you.” I opened the door to the locker room and held it for her, too. “We’re cool.”

Max didn’t say anything, just started to change into the ceremonial uniform. I took it as a sign that this case was closed for her. It should be for me as well. Anyway, if I could find any comfort in this, it was the uniform. It fitted like a glove. I buttoned up the shirt sleeve and couldn’t shake the superhero vibe. I felt like Kara Danvers when she was ripping off her clothes just to transform into Supergirl. Although I was dressing not undressing.

“You weren’t kidding.” I sensed Max behind me. “You do look hot in a uniform.” I turned to face her, but for some reason, she couldn’t meet my eye. Despite her own unbuttoned shirt, she turned her attention to buckling my ceremonial coat. She took her time and used an excess of care while making my transformation into a superhero complete.

It would be effortless. To buy into this delightful fantasy of she and I. The tenderness behind her touch, the way she became comfortable immediately after she found herself close to me. It was all there. But I’d been through this before. The situation when my happily ever after turned into a battlefield in no time.

And while I had had a chance to win in the past, if I decided to take a stand (which I hadn’t done once), now there was none. I wasn’t fighting against the traditional family who’d disowned their own daughter if she'd come out of the closet. I wasn’t competing against a charismatic husband, world-class photographer. And my rival in this matter wasn’t my best friend, either. I stood against someone who I could never upstage. Chloe Price, Max’s first love, the girl who had been murdered. The girl Max had sworn to avenge. Yeah, it was a weird play of fate that the first time I’d do anything to fight, there was no chance for me to win at all. 

When Max finally looked up, I knew she was about to kiss me. And even if I was dying for her to do so, instead of letting myself succumb, I decided to push her away.

“This is a bad idea…” Whether it was my lame effort or her tenacity, the distance between us didn’t change. It probably shortened even.

“You’ve confirmed your relationship status is single, so...” Her second attempt to kiss me was a thousand times harder to resist.

“But yours is complicated for sure.” I sighed. “You don’t even need to confirm.”

I was a mess. On the one hand, trying to convince Max (but more like myself) this was a mistake. On the other hand, I showed no effort to separate us. She was struggling too, no doubt. I refused to kiss her twice. But didn’t let her go either. This was a hell of mixed signals.

“I admit, it felt like I was betraying Chloe. When you left with Steph, I didn’t think about Chloe’s case, about the obligation I have to fulfil... I was thinking about how much I wanted you back. About how I would punch this Steph if I could.” Max stepped away from me, and I missed her closeness at once. “Because you made me feel like no one has ever done before. Because you brought all those emotions that made me feel alive after such a long time. And that was scary as fuck, Vic. That I felt more ME when with you than I was without you.”

She was walking around the locker room with a bare belly because of the unbuttoned shirt (solid six-pack if you really must know). A year of hard work in the gym had paid off. And I found her absolutely enticing. Which indulged me greatly and pained me in the same way, since it all pointed to the conclusion that would ultimately depict this whole situation as unsolvable.

“Through the last year, with no small addition from your side”, Max continued, “I was experiencing the wonderful feeling of becoming stronger, more alive and more capable day by day. Which is exactly what I need if I want to become an elite police officer. But this realisation, that you play a significant part in all of it, actually made me feel incredibly weak, eventually. Especially after you left. So, I rather blame Steph for taking you away from me, than be honest with myself and admit I deliberately decided to keep you away. It wasn’t the most honourable approach, yet it seemed like the right one. I’d preferred if you were happy with Steph, and I was focused on my goal. I’d preferred if our lives weren’t correlating anymore. Because even when it felt like a perfect fusion for a moment. You and me. It only left me confused when you were gone.”

Oh, fucking bloody hell. She said fusion. I had been enamoured before, I had believed it was love even, but never ever it felt like a fusion, until Max Caulfield. I realised thinking about how we had been lying on the grass, holding hands. About how we had solved the training case. About how she had kissed me for the first time. But that was exactly the downside. There would be no confusion without this fusion, Max gave me the precise description of the situation, and she did it with grace. She was honest about how she hesitated that fear clouded her judgement. She was brave to admit all this to me rather than appease both of us with some pathetic lie. And she found the strength to face it all and act rationally. It made me yearn for her even more. But I was heart-broken before, and I doubted there was any strength left in me to go through it all again. Because I had no guarantee, it’s not gonna happen with Max.

“It’s alright, Max. As I said, you have your priorities settled, and I don’t hold it against you, that I’m not one of them. Alas, I’m not immune to your charms. Which could complicate everything. So, would you kindly keep your distance? I guess we could both benefit from that.” I offered. Max shrugged, and for the first time ever, I saw her rolling her eyes as if what I said was total nonsense.

“I wish…” She spoke standing there, so close to me and yet so far away. Her voice was shaky. She was obviously looking for something. Right words or deeds perhaps. Her shirt was still unbuttoned. She seemed determined to find whatever she was seeking. Yet, at this particular moment, she wasn’t even able to dress appropriately. “I wish I could find a balance. Between insanity and indifference. I wish I could make you one of my priorities under the terms that I could not only take from you but give back equally. Because you deserve that, Victoria.”

I believed her. She was pure. It was unimaginable she would be fucking with me. Although, it didn’t mean she was capable of fulfilling such desires. Or that fulfilling it was the best course of action. Whether I could open myself to love again or not, suddenly I wished I could. I made a step towards her and finally dealt with her shirt. Now we were both dressed looking impeccable and eligible to join our initiation. 

“I wish you not just wished for it.” I handed her the ceremonial coat, and for the moment I pushed away those things between us that we couldn’t resolve right now. Nothing should spoil this day for us. “But let’s enjoy what we have worked so hard for first and think about our wishes later. Come on, constable Caulfield.”

She took not only the last part of her garment but also my hand. She was adamant, and I lost the last piece of the will to fight it.

“I’m going to work for it, not only wish for it. Just watch me!” She said as we reached the track and field area that was repurposed, fully crowded with new police cadets and prepared for our initiation ceremony. 

* * *

**Max Caulfield**

**September 11, Friday, Day 362, Year 2**

Had there been a gun pointed to my head with a question of what had just happened, I couldn’t say. But it was one of Victoria’s merits after all. She could bring this stuff to life. Things in me that I didn’t even know had existed.

From the moment I had spotted her, I had known this day had the potential to turn out amazing. If as she’d pointed out, I do not only wish for it. Well, in a few moments, the First Chief Commissioner will ceremonially hand me my credentials, and I’ll officially become a part of the corps. And the beautiful, smart and magical Victoria Chase just happened to be closer to giving me a second chance. And the opportunity to prove I wasn’t an emotional cripple who’s unable to deal with difficult situations.

It was definitely a better Day one than the one in my first year. I wasn’t fearless, of course. The doubts were always lurking somewhere behind the corner. But I had learnt that the fear was always lying to me so it should never be heeded to in the first place. I lead Victoria to our seats in the last row. Except for Zachary everyone was already there. I couldn’t miss their impish looks.

“You’re late.” Dana teased, “but also lucky. The ceremony hasn’t started, yet. The  
First Chief Commissioner is nowhere in sight.” She reckoned. Victoria glanced to the empty seat where the last of us was supposed to be and connected these two events immediately. I had been infatuated with her for a year now. It was known to me when she was concerned. 

“Did he say anything?” I turned to Victoria and tried to be discreet. But there was no point. We were a team now. Zachary’s fate was everyone’s concern. All eyes were on her because she was closest to him.

To everyone's disappointment, she shook her head. “I’ll make a call.”

“He’s not picking up. I already did.” Said Kristine and some weird non-verbal interaction between her and Drew followed. Victoria tried anyway, although the call was declined.

“Damn you, Zach!” She spat. 

“Hey “I squeezed her hand gently and then reluctantly released it. “Let me try something.” I stood up and took a couple of steps away from my classmates.

_I had a steamy affair and lots of hot sex with your cousin Nyssa in the Summer._

_Will you stop calling me kitty, now?_

I wrote and hit the send button. It wasn’t exactly the truth, and I hoped no one will ever find out, but this situation required heavy weapons. The moment until Zach’s face appeared on the screen seemed like an eternity. But he took the bait, eventually. I picked up at once.

_“No, you did not! You beast. That’s one dirty secret, you realise. It’ll break Victoria’s heart.”_ He tried to sound light-hearted, but something was troubling him. 

“It will indeed. So, will you come and tell her? I bet she could use some distraction from being upset because you bailed on her without an explanation today.” I was no fan of the end justifies the means. But I believed this little emotional blackmail was necessary.

_“I didn’t want to. But I’m in no shape to face her. Or anyone. Some shit happened, and well First Chief Commissioner… well nothing. Just fuck him. Tell Victoria and the others I’m sorry I let them down.”_

“Oh, come on. Says the guy who did a hundred push-ups to impress Amaya Jiwe or was still able to stand up after seventeen gin-tonics and take me to my dorms. You’re not quitting, you’re not walking alone anymore! We have your back!” 

“ _Okay, alright. I get it.”_ He said after a long pause.

“So now, I’m gonna pass the phone to Victoria. And you, my boy, you’re gonna tell her your sorry ass is not leaving us.”

_“Fine. Do it.”_

I did as I said, and they spoke for a couple of moments. The concern on Victoria’s face was diminishing slowly, but shortly before the call ended a hint of terror appeared. 

“He’s not quitting, and he’ll meet us after this is over in the parking lot.” She reassured everyone and gave me back the phone. In the meantime, the First Chief Commissioner finally arrived and started his speech. His skin was sallow, and if I wanted to be theatrical like Kris, I said the aura of death was all around him. There was something about this man that made you feel like you’re never going to see the sun again. Fortunately, Victoria leant into me, and her aura and especially her scent worked as an Expecto Patronum spell. All things unpleasant were banished. At least until she whispered.

“I would never believe you would do something like that.” I sensed some discomfort in her voice but not anger. Which was a relief. Zach must have told her about Nyssa. Well, we weren’t together for the time being, and it meant nothing to me but a release. “It’s… well it’s your choice but… but...” She trailed off. I admit people probably wouldn’t consider me as someone who’s into casual sex. Still, it wasn’t that awful to do that, was it? 

“I’m sorry, Vic. I… I was... maybe looking for an adventure that would make me feel… I don’t know. Adventurous. But it’s nothing really. Absolutely nothing.” I blabbered. 

“Nothing, huh? Having a threesome is adventurous but a clit piercing? EWW.”

“What?” The hell?

“Zach told me you rewarded yourself with one in the summer. And btw. yeah, that was a great way to get his attention.” She said a bit amused but still fairly concerned. And I sensed it was Zach’s revenge for dragging him out of his cave.

“I do not have a clit piercing.” I tried to keep my voice down. I had grown more accustomed to being a part of the group than I had ever been before, but this conversation wasn’t for sharing. “It’s gross. I meant everyone to their own liking but EWW.” I liked my private parts the way they were. If someone was into decorating that place with _special jewellery,_ so be it. But I was pretty satisfied with decorations that included only trimming and shaving. And I might have masochistic tendencies sometimes, but mutilating my clit wasn’t one of those, I was sure. Victoria still didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“So, you don’t have any metal gear down there.” She asked tentatively. “I mean, it’s none of my business.” She added and flushed slightly. And I reached for her hand and smirked.

“Come on. Use your detective stuff. Those skills are strong with you. Do I look like a… a piercing lover?”

“No.” She relaxed. And leant into me eventually. I loved that. It wasn't proper behaviour for cadets at their initiation ceremony. But because of what I knew about him from Nyssa I couldn’t say I had any respect for the First Chief Commissioner. And stemming from her close relationship with Zach, I suspected Victoria felt the same. 

“So, would you… would you like my clit to become your business?” I said, and Victoria’s face obtained all shades of red.

“Not now, Max. Not now.” She hissed, and I could tell the idea had caused a strong reaction and not only on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The accident of the plane that was shot down is inspired by the real fate of [Malaysia Airlines Flight 17](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malaysia_Airlines_Flight_17) and Jamie’s survival by incredible woman [Julianne Koepcke.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juliane_Koepcke)
> 
> Also if you’re interested in what else could have happened in the summer, maybe [this story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27085828/chapters/66136834) can give you an idea. Or maybe not.
> 
> And Max's introduction to the second year is almost the same scene as Victoria’s in the first year. Although you probably didn’t notice because.. yeah 15 chapters stand in the way. Anyway, it’s a lot of symbolism in that scene. 


	22. A Little Fucked Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank tkyash, who kindly helped with editing again and also had to deal with my cheeky hamster in the process. Thank you tkyash, you are a star!

**Max Caulfield**

**September 11, Friday, Day 362, Year 2**

While we were walking to the parking lot, Victoria was on her phone talking to her brother. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And I also had difficulties to wrap my head around the fact what kind of wires had been broken in my brain last three months. When I had convinced myself, she (and what we had) can be forgotten.

So, while one of my hands proudly held hers, the other possessed the folders with our credentials. She had put up a minor protest to cease our handholding once or twice, but I hadn’t let her. Hopefully, she had surrendered. The wariness was understandable, I had tried to pretend she didn’t exist for the whole summer. Yeah, stupid, stupid ghosting. But I was done with that. Having Victoria close made me see that suppressing my feelings (especially) towards her was not going to make me a better person. And it definitely won’t guarantee that I would become a more efficient police officer. It only made me feel down, and surprisingly also her. 

I felt the urge to lift up our linked hands and kiss her knuckles gently. When I did it, Victoria didn’t react at all first. But a couple of seconds after she just stopped and stared at me like she wasn’t sure if my unexpected act of affection was real or not. I found her confusion absolutely adorable and answered her possible question if it happened with a big smile and a soft squeeze of her hand.

_“Vicky, hun? Are you there? Is everything all right?”_ I heard her brother inquiring why she had dropped the conversation.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s perfect.” She shyly smiled back at me and moved along.

Yes, she wanted me. Now I knew. And I wanted us. A year ago, it would have been an obscure fantasy, but in this very moment, it was reality. Nothing was without a price though, and I was ready to work for it. For everything that I sought. It won’t be easy, but I was long done with the life in which I was sitting in my room protected from the outside world and overseen by my anxious mum. 

“Sorry, J, I have to take care of something.” Victoria ended the call abruptly, and I sensed her escaping my proximity in haste. My eyes flickered up, and in a second, I noticed the reason behind her outburst. She bustled right towards Zachary, who was leaning into the streetlamp in the middle of the parking lot. 

“He did this to you, didn’t he?” She was angry and worried while carefully inspecting Zachary’s black eye.

“No. It wasn’t... He didn’t.”

“Don’t freaking lie to me, Zach! I’ll kill that bastard!” I’ve never seen Victoria so riled up. She had yelled at me during our first week a year ago with a lot of vigour. But this was different. Now she was mad with someone other than herself. And the thought who this man might be became quite terrifying. Mostly because she just spotted him on the far side of the parking lot.

“Don’t! Victoria, don’t!”

Zach tried to stop her, but I stopped him instead and passed him the two folders. “Let me,” I demanded, and he reluctantly complied. 

“It’s the First Chief Commissioner, the bossiest boss of yours.” I pointed out when I caught up to her. 

“I don’t care.” She replied frenzied, and oh, boy, there was no doubt she didn’t. I figured this wasn’t the first time the First Chief Commissioner had laid a hand on his son.

“You want to hurt him, I get it.” He was maybe fifty meters from us. Not much time for stopping the rage. I had no clue what Victoria could do, but I remembered what I had done when a thug had been threatening Rachel. Just with my bare hands. I remember how badly I wanted to hurt the S.W.A.T. guy when he had been harming Victoria. And now, she also had a loaded gun in a holster at her disposal. “I would want the same thing for Eliot if he was in sight. For anyone who hurt you or Rachel or…” I gulped.

It wasn’t working. My words didn’t reach Victoria at all, it seemed. Or maybe they did, but I didn’t manage to deliver the right message. “Whatever you do, it'll give you satisfaction only for a short time. And that vile bastard will not spare any time to misuse his power in retaliation.”

Victoria’s effervescence was fading, but it was sure it won’t evaporate in time. The First Chief Commissioner was too close. He even noticed us approaching. “I have tasted both extremes. The fear of facing the villain and obsession to finish him. But thanks to you, Victoria, I know there is more to life than angst and revenge. That’s why I won’t allow your rage to overcome you. I won’t allow you to get kicked out of school, out of my life. I want you in here. I need you, Victoria. Do you hear me? We can figure this out together. But not with brute force. We are going to keep our wits about us.”

We stopped right in front of First Chief Commissioner Riggins. He glared at us, but to my liking, Victoria didn’t say a word. “Yes? May I help you, cadets?” He asked, although undoubtedly helping us or anyone was the last thing he desired. Victoria shook her head weakly, and I leant closer to her. “You're from Heywood's group, aren’t you?” He spat with disdain, looking at her hand in mine. “No wonder you’ve gone rogue while associating with people like them.” He turned to Zachary who had just arrived. With the rest of our group in the tow. 

“People who value friendship, teamwork and dedication instead of personal gain and honing their ego.” Drew stepped up in all of his height. I bet even Hulk would be terrified of him right now. “People who understand that dealing with crime should lead to absolution not to oppression.” He put his arm on Zach’s shoulder. “I think you made a great choice, man, when you decided to associate with such people.”

I surely couldn’t comprehend the whole extent of the dispute between Zach and his father, none of us could except for Victoria, perhaps. But absentmindedly we just gathered closer to him in a protective stance. First Chief Commissioner Riggins wasn’t the man who was used to disobedience. The hordes of asslickers around him was definitely a more common occurrence in his life. Now, eight nobodies, rookie cadets dared to oppose him. I swear he didn’t blink once in the last three minutes.

When he spoke, it wasn’t to us. We were beyond him.

“You’re done, Heywood. You and your misguided pets!” He hissed at Professor Heywood who had just joined us. “I’ll make sure of it.” First Chief Commissioner spat and disappeared in his over-expensive car. 

“Are we in trouble?” Warren asked what everyone was pondering about.

“Well, what do you think, Mr Graham?” Our mentor asked in a solemn voice, but before Warren (and all of us) could panic, his expression became soft. “There might be many like the First Chief Commissioner in the corps. Police officers who only believe in oppression and brute force. Those who never meant to serve and to protect in the first place but intimidate others to boost their shaken ego. But, fortunately, not all of us are like that, right?” He put his caring hand on Zach’s shoulder. “So, no one’s in trouble. And Zach, if you want to talk. About anything. My doors are always open.” Professor Heywood concluded with another warm smile and went on his way.

“You must press charges if you won’t, I will.”

Just after I had heard her speaking, I realised Victoria wasn’t by my side anymore, but by Zach’s holding his hand. If her voice didn’t sound so vulnerable, he would be more eager to dismiss this topic, perhaps. It did, and he opened up.

“What’s the point? No one would believe me.”

I approached him as well, hardly believing what was going on. “Victoria believes you. And so do I.” I reassured him. For the briefest moment, it felt absurd. I had found him disgusting a year ago. Now I would fight for him and never give in no matter how overwhelmingly strong the enemy was.

“Me, too.” Said Trevor. And Dana. And the others joined in. I didn’t suppose they had a clue about what was going on, but they would fight for him as much. I only guessed because I had overheard that conversation between him and Victoria in the morgue, about what his father had done when Zach was eight. 

The last one who claimed support for Zach was Drew, but he also apologised for causing this mess. Which left me a bit confused. Especially after Zach had admitted that he deserved that punch in the face. After the clumsy, awkward discussion we all figured out that Drew was the one who hit Zach this time, not his father. Wowser.

What the First Commissioner had done today was that he had forbidden Zach to go to the ceremony because _some street thug with a black eye didn’t belong in our ranks._ Thankfully, his jurisdiction within the police might be wide. Still, he had no power to kick a student out of the Academy. The surprising turn of events led to the revelation about the reason behind the fight between Zach and Drew.

Zach had slept with Kristine in the summer. As they were friends, he had confessed to Drew, eventually. Drew had been so crossed with Zach, at once his fist had just gone up and struck. Double Wowser, what a love triangle drama. Victoria ceased the exciting debate before it could properly start and suggested prioritising the topics that deserve our focus at the moment. Kristine appeared more than happy with this suggestion, Zach, on the other hand, not so much. He looked out of his depth. I got an idea. The proposal contained a lot of revelations that probably shouldn’t be discussed at the curb on the street. Or with people in general. But these weren’t just any people. They were my people, I realised. And I was also sure they all felt the same way about me, despite all of my summer ghosting.

“Listen, Zach,” I started tentatively, “I by no means want to impose, but I have a great therapist. And his husband is a lawyer. Maybe they could help in figuring things out.”

I explained how my mum had befriended one of his clients while in the waiting room, waiting through my sessions. This woman had a son, a promising speed-skater. The speed-skating coach was a perfect example of toxic masculinity, rude and abusive. Not sexually, but physically and verbally. If someone didn’t perform properly in his eyes, they needed to man-up, for example, by standing barefoot on ice for an hour. “I wouldn’t call it a happy ending, but this guy is not allowed to be close to ice-skating rings or promising athletes anymore. And was sentenced to pay huge compensation to his victims.” I concluded.

“You have a therapist.” Surprisingly, that was all that came from Zach. It wasn’t even a question but a prompt to explain further. 

“I always felt anxious and awkward around people.” I must have laughed at my admission. On my first day here a year ago, I had been just like that. Now anxiety and embarrassment were the last things in my mind when these guys were around. And whether I wished for it or not, it was great to be one of them, so it was time for the truth. “But that’s not the case. When I was 15, I saw a girl gutted lying on the floor. She was murdered, and I encountered her murderer, right after. I don’t know if it would affect others, but after that, I become a little fucked up.”

“You’re not fucked up, kitty.” Zach’s bumped my shoulder with his and smiled. “You’re a badass.” I was about to say he was a badass who was gonna deal with his abusive father, but Dana interrupted.

“Guys, I don’t wanna sound like a rapacious monster, but… …could we perhaps plan our next move in how to cancel the vicious First Chief Commissioner over a cup of coffee?” She offered. “I would kill for cream puffs with chocolate glaze.”

* * *

**Victoria Chase**

**Friday, September 11, Year 2, Day 362**

“Whatever you’re going to do, I’ll support you, Zach. But if that asshole--”

“I get it, Vicky. I do, okay.” Zach sighed and looked down to inspect the gravel under his shoes. “You kick his sorry ass, which would result in you getting kicked out of the Academy. Which I don’t want.” He shook his head. “Let me talk with to Professor Heywood first. Once I press the charges, there will be no going back.”

“It won’t be easy, but I’m always here for you. And I’m also sure the rest of us are.”

“I know.”

“Speaking about the others. Kris in particular.”

“We just hooked up in summer. I was lonely, she was lonely, but it was just sex.”

“So, you’re not a thing? You don’t like her?”

“Do you like, Max? Are you a thing?” Zach’s troubled face finally showed a hint of colour.

“I’m not talking about this, Zach.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” I snapped. I had no clue what Max and I were or are going to be, and it wouldn’t be fair to talk about it with anyone before I’m going to talk about our relationship with her. “And she doesn’t have a clit piercing, just for the record.”

“Oh, so you’ve already seen her--”

“Shut up!”

“Fine.” He surrendered. It was a hell of the morning for him, but it seemed now that after the cat was out of the bag, he was actually relieved. Let’s go inside. I’m starving.”

I didn’t say anything back, just followed his suggestion. When we got to the booth where the rest of our classmates sat, they moved instinctively and created a free spot right next to Max. I doubted it was meant for Zach.

“Hey, you,” she said and pulled me down. “Here.” Max passed me the menu, and I knew I was fucked. I was staring at it, but my attention was completely elsewhere. I enjoyed her closeness, her warmth, her everything way too much, considering nothing was settled between us, yet.

“So, what do you like?” She asked about my meal choice but what I’d like at the moment was to be alone with her. So we could talk properly. Or maybe not talk, maybe… I caught myself staring at her lips. At her beautiful dainty lips. The lips I already had the privilege to kiss three months ago.

“I--I…” I was fucked up. Not only a little.

“What about a Caesar salad? Your favourite, isn’t it?” She claimed after realising I was in no condition to pick.

“How--” Max was right, but she couldn’t have this information, could she? This was the first time we had a meal together. And the only food we ever talked about was ice cream and pineapple pizza. “How do you know?”

“De-tective stuff?” She bit her lips trying to hide the blush. The subtle smile forming on my face and my prying eyes revealed I would love to hear more. She obliged my unspoken request. “You…” Her lip-biting intensified. And I found her adorable, even before she admitted she had been watching me. “...you order it every time. Although between February and March you weren’t as excited as other times. Luckily your appetite came back.”

I was watching her, cursing her, wanting her, hating her. For working on what she wished for (me!), not only hoping for it.

“Yeah, I’m boring. And I’ll have a Caesar this time, too.”

“You are not. You know who’s boring?”

“Trevor and Dana.” Said Drew and everyone burst into laughter. Except for Trevor and Dana.

“True, but that’s not what I meant,” Max replied and turned to me again. “Look at her.” She subtly pointed to a girl sitting not far away from us. “That one is boring.”

I had to agree with Max. The girl literally looked like every Instagram girl between 16-24. High waisted blue jeans. White t-shirt and white sneakers. She took a selfie with her boyfriend first. And then took a photo of her food. Although instead of eating, she tossed it aside rather mingling with her phone. What a waste of food, I thought. And I wasn’t alone in this presumption.

“Oh, she’s not only boring. She’s ignorant, preposterous, plain, obtuse, malfunctioned, dim-witted, imbecile…” Every other word that came from Kristine’s mouth was louder and louder. “The only culture she possesses is bacteria. I envy people who haven’t met her. The one poor single brain cell in her head is sooo destitute.” Kristine was almost yelling when she announced that last judgment. The _boring girl_ turned our way.

“Easy, Kris.” Said Drew. “Here, have some food,” and put a big French fry into Kristine’s mouth. She forgot about the outside world in no time. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were still together. Everyone at our table exhaled in relief. No one doubted Kristine’s ability to do the drama. And that simple girl, whose mental capacity definitely wasn’t enough to even pronounce the words used to describe her, that girl wouldn’t stand a chance against miss eloquent Kristine Prescott. 

“I like it when Kris is not yelling at me.” I finally answered Max’s initial question. I only talked to her, but everyone chuckled. 

“Can I join that club, too?” And she was also only talking to me. And the way we looked at each other, it made the whole conversation almost intimate. Even if everyone was listening, it felt natural to be like that with Max and be part of our group at the same time. 

“I have asked Drew, he’s the chairman of that club.” Said Trevor, but his words were addressed to everyone, not to Max’s comment. 

“Hey, I’m not yelling at people. I just have a strong voice.” Kristine defended herself.

“Oh, you do have a strong voice. When you’re yelling at people.” Warren chortled, and before Kristine could yell again, Drew put another french fry into her mouth. 

“You know what I like?” Said Max in a low voice and it seemed we were finally excluded from the group chat. 

“I like how your shoes always perfectly fit with your blouse. I like how the cardigan makes you look irresistible. I like how the scent of pomegranate mixed with something dark but so very sensual fuses with your own.” I gulped. She bit her lip, again. I lost count of how many times she did it today. It was driving me nuts. “I liked how your forehead wrinkles when you’re fully focused on something. I liked how overprotective you can be when those you care about are involved. I like who I am when you’re around.”

She concluded. It was a simple statement. Nothing affectedly grand. Yet, it touched my heart like no words have ever touched it before. I felt a sudden urge to press my lips to hers. Although, it wasn’t lust that governed me. I was looking at her and felt such a devotion. That she was _with me._ Whatever it's supposed to mean and no matter how long or short-lived it’s going to be. 

“I like it when you’re like this. Just yourself.” 

Max’s hand slipped down my forearm. She was tentative. And thoughtful. Gently rubbing the back of mine first. Then gently nudged it as a question if I let her go further. I did and intertwined our fingers without any rush. I would be a fool rushing into all those small touches bringing me pleasure I’ve never experienced before.

As the coffee/lunch progressed, we joined in the conversation from time to time, and I stole glances at Max regularly, who gave me a smile every time I did so. And it all felt so natural. But as my Caesar salad was diminishing, my hunger was rising. She was magnetic, and I had no power to resist. After the last bite, I brought our linked hands to my lap and laid my head on her shoulder. Her reaction was instant. She leaned closer and kissed my hair. 

“Come walk me to the dorms. It’s a lovely and sunny day out there.” She proposed.

The lunch was over, and I had no other plans, to be honest. Even if I had, I would be more than tempted to cancel them. But there was also another issue, much bigger than my pathetic love life.

“It’s tempting, but it’s better if I stay with Zach.” I didn’t want him to go home to his imbecile of a father, who no doubt would beat him senseless for today’s stunt. I needed to help him figure out where he’s gonna stay.

“It’s cool Vicky, I’ve already texted my cousin Nyssa, and she suggested I should move in with her for the moment. It means a lot of commuting, but if anyone in my family will support me when I press the charges, it’s gonna be her. She’s picking me up in a few minutes.” This turn of events made me pleased. I knew a thing or two about Nyssa from Zach already, and she seems like someone who has her shit together. 

“See, everything’s cool. We can go.” Max said in a strange high-pitched voice, eager to leave.

“You sure you don’t wanna wait and _meet my cousin, Max_? I bet you’d like her.” Zach asked teasingly, and I couldn’t point a finger on what was happening between him and Max.

“Maybe next time,” she snapped and dragged me away from the diner.

When outside she linked our arms and snuggled into me, obviously not allowing me any other option than me sticking to her. 

“I’m going to explain, okay? Just give a minute, you know sometimes I struggle with words.” She offered when we crossed the street, but I had no clue what she was talking about. And then I realised we’re not heading towards the Academy (and its parking lot) but the opposite direction.

“Where’s your car?” I blurted, utterly surprised. I knew how important it was to her to have some sort of shield if rain would strike. 

“I guess I don’t have a car anymore.” Max just shrugged. 

“W-what happened?” I inquired thinking about every crazy scenario that could be behind her lost car. And pulled Max closer as my first instinct to protect her. Which was insane because there was no imminent danger around and whatever had happened in the summer I couldn’t undo. 

“You sure you wanna know? It’s stupid.” She stopped and gave me that _I don’t wanna bother you_ look. Not only had I desired to know, I wished I could‘ve been there for her back then when it happened.

“Well, “Max revived the walking, and in her adorable stuttering way, she explained. She told the story of how she had stood up for herself and refused to walk the path her mother had chosen for her. “That’s how I ended up in Switzerland with Rachel for most of the summer,” Max clarified when we reached the dorms.

“So, I guess there is no way to reason with her?” The question was pointless. It was a no brainer, that if there was a way, Max would find it. But I felt the need to prolong my time with her as much as I could. 

“I tried but, frankly right now it’s not one of my priorities. There is Chloe’s case.” She declared and shifted slightly, letting her hands slide around my waist. “And there is this task, where I’m not only wishing for us to work, but I'm also working on it.” She stood on her tippy toes, and it took everything in me to keep the kiss chaste. I was aware, If I succumbed to desire, I would be under her spell at once. And I was afraid after that there would be no more talking about our unresolved issues.

“Max… first, we...should.” My mouth spoke, but my body was unwilling to cooperate. 

“We should have a cup of tea. I absolutely agree with you.” Max dragged me inside with a naughty laugh. She could read me like a book. 


	23. Love Will Have It's Sacrifices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would very much like to thank tkyash and michaely for lending a hand, even though they didn’t have to. This chapter wouldn’t be what it is now without them.

**Max Caulfield**

**Friday, September 11, Year 2, Day 361**

“It’s a bit of a mess. I’m sorry. Most of my things are still at Rachel’s. But hey, I have lavender, chamomile or classic black tea. Whatcha say?” Victoria’s hand slipped out of mine, and she paced around the room nervously like a caged animal, not looking at me once. A year ago, I would already have lost the last remnants of my confidence. _Is she even interested in me? Do I want to get involved in such insanity in the first place? How do I get out of this?_ Those questions would be floating in my head.

“Max, what are you doing?” She finally stopped her erratic march and took off her uniform jacket and the holster with her gun. She tossed both pieces of her gear on the top of my desk chair and even unfastened a couple of the top buttons of her shirt as if it would help her tame the shallow breathing. It didn’t, but at least she understood that my small dorm room wasn’t the most suitable place for prolonged walks. Thus, Victoria sat down on my bed, eventually. “You’re offering me a classic black tea like this is some tea party, when… while...”

Yeah, a year ago I couldn't even breathe in a similar situation, let alone speak. Not today. Now I had all the answers and some needed confidence.

“While...” I found myself sitting next to her, “...we are going to talk about,” spilling kisses down her neck, “about how I not only wish for us to be together, but also how I’ll work for it,” alongside her collarbone.

“Max...” Victoria probably intended to come up with some ridiculous excuses as to why we shouldn’t be doing this. Still, in the end, it sounded she was pleading. It was the pleading I wanted to hear. I felt how the vibrations were rippling through her. And my own hunger was rising. I had only tasted a small part of her body, yet it had enticed me for so much more. Seeing the glimpse of her luscious breast and not ripping her shirt off at once was one of the toughest challenges I ever went through. I was dying to take in the essence of her. But for what it was worth, I could comprehend, this wasn’t the way to reach Victoria’s heart. I needed to understand her the way she miraculously understood me. Today. On that rainy day, when my PTSD had hit or when I had freaked out, I couldn’t pass the last exam. That’s why I ceased the devouring of her burning skin, and my purposeful stare lingered on her until she dared to look back at me.

“I know I screwed up but have some faith in me,” I spoke slowly stroking her cheeks. “My goal and your presence in my life can coexist in peace. I want you. I want us. I want it all with you. And I know you know that. So, there is something you’re not telling me. Please, say it, whatever it is.” 

She took my hand that was caressing her face and left a couple of tender kisses all over the place. Then she just shrugged.

“I’m cursed, okay.”

“Cursed?” I guffawed. Not the best reaction, I supposed. But what in the bloody, hell? Victoria probably realised how stupid it sounded and chortle as well.

“Well, curse, karma call it whatever you like. Because of what I did to Kate Marsh, I’m forever cursed, and you’ll break my heart eventually. No matter what I’ll do.” She stated emotionless like she had resigned. I hadn’t.

“So, you’re saying this curse,” I carefully navigated both of our bodies down onto the bed, “or karma or whatever,” Victoria expressed no resistance, “is going to lead me and make me into leaving you, eventually?” Oh Gawd, I wasn’t very good with my resolution to talk first and enjoy her body next.

“No.” She gasped, straddled, entirely under my control.

“Good, splendid. So, that settles it then.” I said with all seriousness.

“No.” Her reply bore the same severe manner. I was about to dig some more, tease her some more. To ease her urgency. There was no need, though. She flipped seriousness into passion in no time, while pulling me down and capturing my lips fiercely. I was devouring the pleasure this fusion gave me and even let her pin me down to the bed instead. But after a couple of seconds, she ceased the kiss.

“Why are you… so you?” She asked, catching her breath without really seeking an answer and fell down next to me. I turned to my side and couldn’t stop staring at her while feeling the buzzing between my thighs. She must have sensed my gaze, “What?” and barked, faking anger, not bothering to look my way. “You were teasing me all day. Touching me, catwalking around the locker room with an unbuttoned shirt, trying to kiss me. Dammit, Max! It physically pains me to restrain myself from… from you. But I have to. Sex will not settle any issue between us. Except for the throbbing between my legs.” She smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Agreed. “ I touched Victoria’s shoulder gently and prompted her to turn to the side, so she could face me. “We need to have this conversation first.” I gave her a soft smile and kissed her nose instead of her lips, trying to transform the greed I felt into gentleness. “So, do you think you could give me an explanation of why you are so afraid to let me in that is less related to a curse and has more to do with facts? It’s only fair if you asked me. I already bared my soul to you in the locker room today.”

She rolled her eyes, again now even more. But I knew I was close. “Perhaps.” She said with a jaded voice.

“Go on, then.” I encouraged her.

Victoria took her time, but when it was clear I’m not planning to let this be, she spilt all her beans.

“Unconsciously I always fall for the girl who’s not planning to make me her priority because I’m still punishing myself for the Kate Marsh thing. I thought I was over that insanity. That the _curse_ was lifted, but my encounter with Steph confirmed the complete opposite. Yes, she wasn’t married like Anna,” Victoria explained, and I must have admitted it took me by surprise. Did she say she was involved with a married woman in the past? I would expect it from the Victoria version 1.0, the one I had found wasn’t real. I hoped my discomfort didn’t show when we were finally getting somewhere.

“Or in the closet, like…N-- whatever. And she was all fired up to be with me at the moment. So, she seemed like a perfect person to fall for. But she was a terrible choice, Max.” Victoria continued trying to keep her emotions in check. And so was I, frankly. But not because of her involvement with a married woman. Because of another confession. “Only one person would be worse than Steph. And it IS you, Max. My brain is still very much fucked up. Deep down, I must have known getting involved with Steph would screw me up, because she was still in love with my best friend, Taylor. Even when she was telling me otherwise.”

That was really fucked-up. But I cared about Victoria like I had never cared about anyone else before. She had done so much for me, and I wanted to do just as much for her. “And do you know what is the worst thing, Max? Looking at the whole thing from a perspective where I very much likely allowed that Steph thing to happen just to keep myself as far away from you as possible. Which didn’t work at all, because now I’m totally shooting myself in the foot, again.” She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and smiled. Even if there was nothing cheerful about her expression. “On Monday, you are going to enter the CRIFID and engage in Chloe’s case. Which I understand, it’s the reason why you are here. But where do I fit in there? Nowhere.” She concluded. Her eyes filled with agonising sadness. 

“Come on a date with me.”

“What?” Victoria blurted, and I swore not even Victoria Beckham joining the Spice Girls reunion would made her that surprised. Honestly, I was a bit amazed by my words, too, but when I said them out loud, it was a no brainer. I didn’t care about Victoria’s past. Our future was most important to me. And even if I had no experience with this matter, no clue how to do that and no support, I knew I wanted to build it together with her. Brick by brick, so nothing and no one could bring it down.

“Come on a date with me, Victoria Chase and I’ll show you…”

“Max… there is a reason why I am falling for you so, so hard. I have been falling… Well, many reasons actually, but this one, in particular, is going to result in my spirit broken. Because you’re the folly of my kind. Indefinitely unattainable.”

“Uh-huh.” I teased. Victoria was almost where I needed her to be.

“Max…” But she didn’t stop giving me a hard time. Not because of her obstinacy. Because she was saying my name over and over again and it really turned me on.

“I’ll tell you what.” My hand sought for hers and interlaced our fingers. “Your theory has one major flaw. I am unattainable, yes. For anyone else but you. You unlocked this desire for a true connection in me, and it works only with you, no one else. I fell for you and then made you fall for me. It wasn’t your choice but mine. Because I’m just awesome. And since I realised that you’re not with Steph anymore and I finally admitted I liked you… well, since then, I was deliberately and actively seeking your company and encouraging our connection.”

“Your explanation has a flaw, as well.” She retorted. “I was infatuated with you from the very first moment we clashed on the stairs, remember? But I tried hard to suppress it.”

“Well, if I got you at first sight that’s even better,” I smirked. Now, I was sure nothing could stand in our way. She had just acknowledged that her enticement with me wasn’t just a whim. Not a rebound. She was infatuated with me before she had a thing with freaking Steph. _How do you like it, Steph, that she liked me before you?_ I mentally high-fived myself and had never felt happier about something so petty. “Another proof that your silly theory doesn’t apply to me. Because back then you didn’t know a single thing about me. So, you couldn’t know if I was the _wrong_ choice. Yet, you wanted me.” I was sneakily bringing my body closer and closer to hers, so my last words spoken meant our lips slightly brushed.

“Why are you doing this, Max? Why do you like me? It's not like I’m… like I’m...”

“But you are. Powerfully attractive.” I said melting into the kiss. “Fascinating.” And another one. “Clever.” And another. “Witty.” More was about to come. “Sensational.” And more “Savvy. Sagacious. Kind. Attentive.” My voice was turning into a hoarse whisper. “And sweet and soft. Strong. And I swear if you don’t drop that curse nonsense at once, I will go find this Kate Marsh and ask her for a blessing.”

“Alright, you win, Max Caulfield. I yield.” She moaned. “Just please leave poor Kate out of it.” And she revived the kiss. 

I could live like this, the taste of her lips was pure heaven. Her body close to mine. Victoria wasn’t the first person I kissed. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time we had kissed. But the feeling of kissing her right now, when we were alone when she was close to fixing that bug in her head, was definitely the very first-time kind of experience. No previous encounter of mine could compare to this. Victoria herself had a lot to do with it. Her radiant beauty. Her insane charisma. An irresistible cloud of mystery ever-present around her. Although not only did she alone make this connection so different from those before. My own behaviour was far different than what it had been when I was with someone in the past. With her, it was always me who took the initiative. And not only did I want it this way, but I also enjoyed it. How she received my kisses, my affection. She responded to them eagerly but didn’t interject. She also let me call the shots, and I loved it. When my tongue had entered her mouth, she hadn’t battled it, just joined in the dance and let me lead. And when I deepened the kiss, she didn’t try to turn the tables and gain dominance instead just went with the flow. 

I had been hungry for her since I had spotted her in front of the Academy today. And now the hunger was fading. Something much more complex had replaced it. I felt like with every kiss Victoria was giving me a part of herself, and I didn’t want to miss a single thing. I had no reason to rush, and instead, I relished every single moment of our connection. Time had no meaning anymore but when my phone on the nightstand started to ring the room was significantly darker than at the beginning of our make out session.

For what it was worth, it could be King Willem-Alexander of Netherlands and I still had no intention of picking up. But Victoria didn’t even think about dismissing the call. Her body untangled from mines at once, and she instinctively reached for my cell and passed it to me.

And then I got it. When her parents had been trying to reach Victoria after her brother’s accident, she had been unavailable. So, I didn’t suppose she would allow any call to be missed, anymore.

I looked at Rachel’s cheery face on the screen and took a couple of seconds to steady my breathing.

“Rachel, Hi.” The moment I spoke, I could barely recognise my voice.

_“So, I take it you’re not coming, tonight?”_

“Fuck.” I panted. I was supposed to text her when the school stuff was over, and we were supposed to have a movie night. “I-I…” I loved Rachel, but if I could have one chance to bail on her, it would be now.

_“It’s alright, Super Max. Who would choose movie night with me when having one of the Chase siblings in her bed is the other option?”_

“What? how do you…how…”

 _“So, she is there with you. In your bed. Jackpot!”_ Rachel laughed. _“Well, I was just teasing, but you confirmed it.”_

“...but, but--”

“ _Anyway, tell Victoria Jamie says hi. Bye, Max.”_

The call ended, and I had difficulties in wrapping my head around what had just happened.

“What’s up, freckles?” Victoria asked tentatively while I just stared mutely at the screen.

“Rachel told me I should say hi from your brother.” The phone in my possession chirped, and the incoming message was a picture of Rachel and Victoria’s handsome brother being all cuddly on her couch. “They’re apparently together, right now.” I showed what had been revealed to me to Victoria. “Did you know they knew each other?”

“No.” She admitted. “I mean Jamie has been texting a lot with someone recently, but I had no clue it was your Rachel. He just explained this person is his favourite actress. He beamed when he told me how he dared to hit her up because she had been checking his Insta stories regularly. I don’t know if it’s serious, but he claimed she’s super cool and he really likes her.”

“Wowser. Rachel and your brother are an item.” I was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t said a word. Because obviously, their involvement hadn’t happened today or yesterday. It was on-going for quite some time.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all,” I assured her. “It’s just… now some things make more sense.”

“What things?” Victoria made us sink back to the bed again now after it was settled nothing terrible was happening.

“Does your brother know about me about us?”

“I didn’t intend to tell him. First, I didn’t think much about anything other than his health. And then when you had ghosted me, my faith that there will be an us, vanished quickly. But yes, he knows bits and pieces. Because of Taylor. And Steph. Mostly, Steph. It was her who enthuse him about how I might be more than infatuated with someone.”

“Steph? Your ex-girlfriend? Is it normal for your brother to discuss your possible new relationship with your exes?”

“No, no. Fuck. God forbid.” Victoria looked appalled all of a sudden. “He’d kill her if he knew we were involved and how things ended between us.”

I don’t know what was more surprising. That Victoria didn’t tell her brother about her relationship with Steph or Steph was basically shipping her with me.

“So, it seems, he’s not afraid to be opinionated on the matter of the choice of your lovers, is he?”

“Absolutely. Jamie resented Anna with his guts. Oh, and when he found about N--, about my other ex-lover he wished to strangle her.”

“Am I in risk of being strangled? Because I ghosted you in the summer?” I explored how good my chances were to see another sunrise. If I ever meet the infamous Jamie Alistair.

“He doesn’t know. Steph only said the nicest things about you.” Victoria confirmed. “Besides you’re nothing like Anna or… or the other girl he’s not a fan of.”

It was resolved then. I was in the good grace of Victoria’s brother. And this topic could be closed quickly, and we could pick up where we had left off before my phone had rung. Oh, how tempting the idea of Victoria’s lips pressed against mine was. Yet, I sensed the rare opportunity to reveal more of the essence of this remarkable woman. And while my confidence was warning me that it could get shattered knowing more about Victoria’s exes, rationally I knew I had to go through this. If my decision to understand Victoria was genuine.

“So, this, Anna. She is part of the _curse_ , isn’t she? And the other girl, you cannot even say her name aloud.”

“So, now, you believe in the curse, freckles?”

“No. I believe you’ve been through a lot in the past and I would very much like to understand it, to understand you.”

“It’s nothing nice, Max and if I tell the tale, I definitely wouldn’t be the hero in it.”

“You don’t need to be. You already are the hero in my story. So come on, out with it. Start with Anna.”

“She lied to me about a lot of things. But I wasn’t behaving at my best, either. I should have ran away when she told me she’s married, at once. But I didn’t.”

Not particularly eager, Victoria started with how she had applied for the Academy right after her graduation, four years ago. She had passed all the tests except for the personal interview. Now she knew the reason behind the failure had been lying to Professor Heywood about her true intentions to become a cop. She had skipped the Kate Marsh part while explaining her decision to fight against injustice. Nevertheless, even when Victoria had failed to meet the criteria for the special PI program, it hadn’t discouraged her. She had decided to join the corps, anyway as a regular beat cop.

Her mum had been horrified at the thought that Victoria was going to be dealing with petty criminals, drug dealers and low-lives in the first line of duty, daily. Yet, she had been affirmative that the more she’ll oppose, the less chance Victoria will listen. So instead of _brute force,_ Margaret Chase had come up with a proposal. She had offered her the position of junior curator in one of her galleries in Switzerland. In the magical and captivating city of Lugano. If Victoria determines she’ll still want to be a cop after a year in there, she would have her mum’s full support.

In Switzerland, in the gallery Victoria had worked at, she met Anna Vigdis Engen. The former Norwegian model in her early thirties who had moved from the mecca of Fashion - Milan, that was just around the corner. And had desired to connect with art differently than through exhibiting her body. Or at least that’s what Anna had said. Victoria had found her attractive and a pleasant person to hang out with, but nothing more. Anna was 33, and hadn’t matched much with an 18-year-old future cop. Yeah, even if there hadn’t been a considerable age gap, Victoria definitely hadn’t planned to stick around. She had loved working in the gallery, but her purpose could only be fulfilled with the corps. Yet, Anna had seemed more than keen to be acquainted with her young colleague and breach her defences. Victoria confessed she had only resisted briefly and once she had been under Anna’s spell, she had ignored all the red lights. 

“Ajax played against Inter in the UEFA Europa League so Jamie stopped by while around and I was all fired up for him to meet her. She wasn’t that excited but agreed eventually. After one coffee with Anna, he warned me she was a fraud. I refused to believe him.”

I guessed the story of Anna was coming to its conclusion while the last remnants of daylight in my room were disappearing quickly. I wasn’t sure if I should turn on the lamp on the nightstand. I did not wish to disturb Victoria when she finally appeared to be willing to unravel her past. Yet, there was a lot of regret in her voice. Not once had she looked at me during this confession. She either laid on her back staring to the ceiling or sat up occasionally inspecting her manicure, then sunk back into the sheets again. But not once did her eyes meet mine while she had been revealing pieces of the times when I hadn’t known her.

“She swore she loved me, that her marriage with Mark Jefferson, the well-known photographer was dead, just for show. And I trusted her. Not Jamie. My own brother, who had a history with her kind.” Victoria shifted in her position so that she faced me, and for the first time since I had asked about Anna, she was looking at me. “I trusted her because it was convenient. But everything between us was a lie.” She concluded, but it didn’t bring any conclusion. Yet no more words came.

If I said I wasn’t cross with Victoria’s past decision, her judgement and her involvement with this fucking Nordic former supermodel Anna, it wouldn’t be true. But I had asked for this. And now Victoria’s eyes were asking me if I still felt the same about her knowing all this. Despite the anger in me, I did. And fortunately, I came out with a brilliant idea of how to cease that rage. And how to show her nothing from her past could change how I felt about her.

I scooted forward so that I could join our lips together. I did not plan for it to go any further than that. This kiss wasn’t about hunger or desire. It was about acceptance. I accepted Victoria in my life, with everything she carried. When I felt her relaxing, I moved back.

“So, what made you end the relationship?” Technically, it could be Anna who had dumped Victoria, but I didn’t see that happening.

“One day Anna told me her husband knew about us and had no problem with it. But he wished to take pictures of us..while… while we…” Victoria stuttered and I was actually glad. Not even in my worst nightmares, did I need to hear that word.

“It’s alright, babe, it’s alright.” I took no time in bringing Victoria into my arms. And obviously for the first time ever I had used an affectionate nickname. Something I had found awkward and ridiculous in the past but totally fitting, now. “I’ve got you.” I tightened the grip, yet still keeping it gentle and kissed Victoria’s hair. Once, twice, enough times to prove she was safe with me. That she was cherished, not used for some twisted purpose.

“I just told her I need time to ponder… Fuck… time to ponder, fuck… what nonsense… what a failure! I should’ve told her to fuck off. I didn’t. Just appeased her. At least, I found enough strength to call Jamie. He left his training session at once and drove straight to Switzerland. 8 hours. I waited for him at a gas station. I just needed to be sure Anna wouldn’t find me. Oh, fuck, if she did maybe, I could’ve been convinced to stay. Fuck. And because of Jamie’s sudden departure, he was benched for a month, but he said he would do it even if it meant he was never going to play again. See, this is what I do to people. I bring them to the edge.” Victoria muttered into my shoulder. It didn’t make me happy, yet I was glad that the whole thing had drained her enough, so her urge to punish herself was depleted as well and she stayed exactly where I wanted her. In my arms.

I wasn’t a master of words, that was for sure. It wasn’t a rare occurrence that it took me forever to explain myself. And this situation was delicate, I couldn’t afford to say something stupid and ruin the fragile trust Victoria had in me. But I wished to do something to make her feel better. Something more than just _it’s alright babe._

“Are you hungry?” Food was a universal good mood bringer if one wasn’t anorectic. Victoria’s perfectly toned athletic body suggested she definitely wasn’t. Thus, I chose food as a comfort and could only hope it would work. “I mean there is Vapiano not far away. If I make a call now our take away can be here in twenty minutes. They have great Ceasar’s salad but also delicious pasta and pizza. Oh, and their sweets are to die for.”

Victoria didn’t say anything at first. She just let her hand trace up my chest until it made contact with my face. As her fingertips were dancing delicately along my cheek, I felt her head lying on my shoulder buried deep into the crook of my neck. I sensed her inhaling my scent. I relished every small kiss she left on my bared skin, right after.

“I’ll have whatever you have.” She said eventually when her need for rewarding my neck with the most delightful prize was satisfied.

I grabbed the phone on the nightstand, and by some miracle, I manage to do it without breaking our connection or breaking my neck. “Hawaiian pizza then.” I teased.

Victoria smiled. I mean, I couldn’t know, yet I knew she did even before she spoke. “They do not have Hawaiian Pizza on the Vapiano’s menu, freckles.”

“They do. It’s a secret. The secret menu.” I faked serenity while sending the order containing Caprese salad, shrimp risotto, salami pizza and two mousses de chocolate.

In the meantime, while we were waiting for our delivery, we discussed all kind of toppings that definitely didn’t belong on pizza. It had been hell hearing about the whole Anna situation. But Victoria seemed greatly relieved now when she had gotten it off her chest. When the courier called, I suggested she should pick some more comfy clothes than the uniform shirt.

“Feel free to check the closet, but don’t expect any masterpiece of fashion,” I joked.

When I came back with our food, I almost forgot about my hunger. Victoria wore my oversized orange NT jersey. The one that had been with me on the day of Leeuwinnen’s most famous victory.

I was like three seconds away from telling Victoria I loved her. And I wouldn’t even mind, oh Gawd. I so wouldn’t. But I stopped myself at the last possible moment guessing she was neither prepared to hear it, nor would she believe it’s the truth.

What she was ready for at this moment was the Vapiano delivery pack. While we were sharing everything in the box, we talked about how our girls had won the 2017 EURO’s and the whole country had gone crazy. But frankly, in the back of my head, I had a discussion with myself if I really was in love with Victoria.

No matter what angle I chose, every single one supported this assumption. I had probably already been in love with her three months ago, I just needed to understand what it truly meant.

“I’ll take care of these, okay?” Victoria sorted out all the waste we produce to three packages. “There are recycling bins in the hall.”

When she was gone, I changed into more comfortable clothes, as well, riding on this epic wave of euphoria that only this feeling called love could spur on. It was like our victory in EURO. I mean everyone secretly hoped we could win, but what were the odds? But when we had done it, it had been like, yeah. We had always meant to be champions. Of course, we had. We had, and it’s the best fucking feeling ever.

“So wanna hear about Natasha, the tennis player, too?” But when Victoria returned, she brought me back to reality, where understanding love might be fulfilling but never easy. The reality where our victory in EURO wasn’t an effortless walk through the tournament but the perfect puzzle cemented by years of hard work.

“Natasha the tennis player, like Natasha Nazarova?” I wasn’t quite sure why I made this particular connection. Still, when one said Natasha and tennis in our country in one sentence, Natasha Nazarova was the only answer.

“Uh-huh.” Victoria nodded.

“Wowser.” Natasha Nazarova, the daughter of Russian immigrants, was the very example of a straight, religious girl, who does not believe in premarital sex. She had never dared to openly criticise homosexuality, no sponsor of hers would condone that. We were living in the Netherlands, after all. But her pictures with Vladimir Putin on various occasions spoke clearly. Gays should burn in hell. “I guess now I understand, why you are not so eager to say her name aloud,” I acknowledged. And at the same time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that some Russian purity commando was going to knock on my door in no time. And they would show me no mercy and drag me to some torture chamber because I dared to suggest Natasha Nazarova could be gay.

“Yeah. So wanna hear how this _curse_ started. About how my involvement with Natasha Nazarova almost cost Kate Marsh her life?” Victoria’s solemn expression just underlined my sudden wariness.

“I don’t think I want to,” I spoke in all honesty. It was undoubtedly a painful story that contained a lot of suffering. “Yet, I believe I must.” I took Victoria’s hand and lead her back to our cuddling spot on the bed.

In a way, this story was much worse than any before, including Anna. Before Anna, for more than two years, Victoria had been in an on and off secret relationship with the young rising tennis star. The relationship had been nothing but toxic. They had fought all the time. Victoria had suffered in the closet. Natasha had suffered, too and blamed Victoria for not loving her enough when demanding coming out of the closet. They had been mad at each other non-stop.

All of their fights had been about who had sacrificed more and who had really cared and who hadn’t. And when they hadn’t fought, they had relished each other bodies. They had never talked about their issues. Just disputed. And when Victoria couldn’t openly channel her anger and frustration towards the person who had deserved it, Natasha, she had found the next best thing. A religious classmate of hers, Kate Marsh. Victoria had been picking on her often. Because of her fake purity, because of her religious obsession. Everything she couldn’t stand about Natasha, Kate had gotten panned about.

“See, I’m terrible.” Victoria sighed. It was probably long after midnight, already. She sounded as worn-out as I felt. On the one hand, I am yearning for this epic romantic love, on the other, I’m leaving nothing but scorched land behind me. I fail miserably every time I try. You still want that date with me, Max?”

I had known Victoria for a year now. I had not been all fired up to admit it initially. Still, I had been watching her, evaluating her moves, her decisions, her words. She had been all in my head. That’s why I believed I could translate her body language more than well. In the last couple of hours, she had become more adjusted to the thought I could be trusted. Nevertheless, she was still equally prepared for the scenario I would back out.

Every now and then her muscles stiffened, her forehead got wrinkled as if she was shielding herself from the impact of my possible rejection. Whenever Victoria became wary, I brought up more tenderness. Oh, those nightmares from her past were heavy as fuck indeed. But thanks to Victoria’s presence in my life, I was stronger than ever. And even if it was important to know about Anna and Natasha, I hoped I was never going to hear about them again, after today. And I was keen to make sure Victoria left them in the past, as well. She was a different person now that I knew. 

I cupped my palm against her dainty, soft skin, holding it there to let the warmth of her flesh radiate into my touch. My thumb ran across those same plush lips I so often yearned to savour.

“Do you think Natasha would admit she failed? Or Anna? I don’t suppose they would. So yeah, I still want that date with you. And not only one. I want two, ten, thousand.”

With that, she seized me by the wrist and placed supple kisses across the length of my fingers, knuckles, the back, and so on. Oh, how much I adored it when she was the one doing it.

“You’re kind, freckles. Kinder than I deserve. But what if Chloe’s case will consume you, and I will be just a release for you eventually. What if I am gonna hold it against you? What if what we have will turn into something atrocious, where we just keep hurting each other or using each other?”

I nudged my way toward her, bridging the gap between not just ourselves but also our minds and souls. With both of my two hands I cradled her shapely, picturesque face, the same one I wished to look upon always.

“And what if not? What if it will rise and blossom. Could you give it a thought?”

She allowed her body to sink even deeper into mine. Within each other, we started to find the confines that could protect and nurture all of our true hopes and desires, our dreams and expectations.

“I suppose I can.”

And with that thought, completely exhausted, we both fell asleep snuggled together. At first, it was just a shallow nap full of disturbing images. The confusing little dreams that missed Victoria’s presence. And I found myself waking up, just to check if she was still here with me. But when I was rewarded with her warmth, again and again, with an opportunity to hold her tighter, to leave a kiss or two on her shoulder, on her hair, or everywhere within reach. When she kept receiving all this care eagerly, my raging mind finally calmed down.

* * *

When I woke up according in the position with the sun behind the window, it was almost noon. But it didn’t matter at all. What mattered was that Victoria was here in my bed, in my arms. Nothing could compare to this feeling. Not only because of her beautiful soft body pressed against mine. Not just because I didn’t feel lonely and lost anymore. But because she made me filled with joy. I felt complete, whole. I didn’t miss a single thing.

Except for the bathroom perhaps, but that could be fixed easily.

To my pleasure, Victoria agreed to go on a date with me, today, eventually but only if I gave her time to prepare. So around one pm, she left, and I had time to go through the details of our afternoon. After three hours, the longest three hours of my life, I waited outside the apartment building where she lived. When she showed up, she looked mesmerising as always. And maybe a bit surprised that I didn’t give the impression I had something extraordinary planned. Especially if my answer to her question of where we are going was to take a ride on the tram.

My casual outfit and my unusual decision might suggest I didn’t care much about this date. And honestly, I enjoyed Victoria’s confusion and her astonishment when I finally explained why I chose the tram.

I brought up the memory of our first coffee together when Victoria had grabbed my hand and made me run for tram no. 10. And then I had opened up to her, and she opened up to me. So, I picked various stops on the line of tram no. 10. And these destinations were thoroughly chosen. So we could hop off and admire the sightseeing’s or take a nice picture of the two of us, or some delicious finger food and then just jump back onto the train, that took us to our next location. Until we reached our final destination, the Academy.

I could tell Victoria wasn’t sure what of interest could be right here. Nevertheless, she let me lead her to a special place in the middle of the parking place that was connected to one particular moment in my life. And I wanted another one to be connected with this place, as well.

“Remember a year ago?” I started a bit shaky. This whole day was perfect by all means. And no matter how confident I had become throughout the last year, it still felt like something unreal, and I was afraid someone could pinch me, and I would wake up from this dream. “You were standing right here when I saw you for the first time. That moment started something utterly unexcepted, yet incredible.”

“I do remember.” Victoria nodded and looked down. “I would never imagine we could—"

My hands slid up her shoulders and lifted her chin up, bringing her into a kiss. The kiss that was everything I felt about her. Still, I needed to voice it too.

“I’m in love with you, Victoria.”

“Oh, come on, Max.” She stepped back, at once. Yet knowing her body language too well, I recognised she wasn’t turning me down but pondering If I understood the impact of my words. “Don’t say that. You can’t do that on the first date. This is not some freaking rom-com.”

“I’m in love with you,” I said even louder and pulled her back, “and I don’t care if this is our first date or tenth. Your presence in my life has changed everything. I’m still not quite sure who I am or where the road I chose ultimately leads, but if there is only the slightest chance that you’re going to walk that road with me. The smallest, tiniest one. I’m going to use every ounce of passion and will and resilience in me to fight for that chance.” I saw Victoria shaking her head, but it was clear to me that her last wall of defence was falling down. “So, from where I stand, everything seems pretty settled. Only one last thing remains. That is the answer to my question if you want to be an important part of my life, one of my priorities… Is the answer, Yes?

“Oh, Max.”

“Come on, babe. Do you want me to kneel down and ask again? Like in one of those Veronica Lake’s awfully cheesy fanfictions? Because I will.”

“Please, don’t do that. Please. We are not even in a relationship, yet. You can’t tease me with proposals.” Victoria chuckled fairly embarrassed but also equally excited about the idea.

“I won’t. If you say yes.”

“Oh, for fuck, sake. Yes. Yes, you fool. Yes, Max Caulfield, I’m dying to become a significant part of your life. But if you’ll break my heart, I swear I’m going to become a nun.”

“Not happening. It would be such a waste of that tongue of yours. It simply cannot be used only for saying prayers. I mean it surely is absolutely capable of summoning god’s name in many more different manners.”

“I can’t believe you said that.” Now she was fully laughing, and I felt kind of embarrassed.

“I can’t believe it either. We’re never going to mention it again. Promise! Victoria promise!”

“Oh, I will definitely tease you about it forever.” Victoria linked our arms and lunged to the tram stop. “When my tongue’s work will make you say god’s name.”

When we arrived at Victoria’s place, the experiment of whose tongue is capable of making the other say god’s name first had to wait. Kris and Dana had a girl’s night, and we were invited, too. If we behave and act like girls on a girl’s night and not like a cuddly couple.

I was tempted to dismiss their offer. Although after a quick non-verbal conversation with Victoria, I concluded that I have all the time in the world with her, so there is no need to hurry. Besides, these two girls had played no small part in my transformation as well.

So, while we were eating a lot of junk food and drinking an equal amount of red wine, Dana told the story of how she had met Trevor. How he had helped her overcome the toughest period of her life. And when the option where she could have helped him with preparing for Academy exam had shown up, she hadn’t hesitated a moment. And joining his journey she had realised, she actually loved the police work too and applied as well. Kris didn’t stay behind and explained how difficult it had been to let Drew go, and that she had also harboured some feelings towards Zachary in the summer. The feelings she had no clue how to deal with.

I supposed Victoria had enough of talking about heavy stuff, for a moment, so I inserted my own little story into the girl’s talk.

“Well, there is this girl. I don’t think you know her.” I joked. “But she’s top-notch. 11 out of 10.” I pulled out my phone and showed everyone the pic of Victoria I had taken earlier today.

“She’s not top-notch.” Victoria opposed. “I’m definitely prettier.”

“Hey, don’t listen to this biatch, Max,” Kris exclaimed, and we all burst into laughter. “Tell us about this special girl of yours.”

“Well, she’s one of a kind. When you are with her, you feel happier. More alive. You feel more you. Maybe she wasn’t like this all the time, but she is now. Maybe she has flaws. But we all do. And everything that happened to her in the past made her the person she’s now. And also brought her to me. Which I am so grateful for. And I almost screwed that chance with her once, so I can only hope she’s gonna believe me I won’t do that anymore.”

I wasn’t looking at Victoria because I was a bit afraid, if I overstepped with such a deep confession in front of others. Gawd, the things she was doing to me, never ceased to amaze me. What am I gonna do tomorrow, propose to her for real? Damn. But I allowed my eyes to flick between Dana and Kris. Kris gulped, and the tears were close to coming out of her eyes. Dana just smiled, obviously inspecting Victoria’s face and then put her hand on mine.

“Oh, Max. I think she already does.”

“Bridget Jones marathon, anyone?” Victoria announced, and everyone was on board.

I wasn’t an avid fan of Bridget Jones but when we started the marathon, the no cuddle rule didn’t apply to us anymore. Which was a very significant pro. Somewhere in the middle of the second movie, I fell asleep leant onto Victoria, and somewhere in the middle of the night, I woke up in her arms while she was carrying me to her bed. And I couldn’t be happier because it meant I was going to wake up in the morning next to her again.

* * *

I blinked my eyes open to find the space next to me on bed empty. I groaned in disappointment. The sheets smelled like Victoria, but it was only a small comfort. I’d like to believe she had just gone to the bathroom and was about to come back into my embrace in no time. The sound of music and awful singing coming from the living room suggested otherwise. I checked the armband. 9:02 was too damn early for waking up on a Sunday. Especially if the song from Iggy Azalea did the waking. Since sleeping or snuggling with Victoria didn’t seem like a vital option, I rolled out of bed to check what was going on in the next room. It was a hilarious view. In front of the TV, Kristine was rapping about how she 

_Still stunting, how you love that_

_Got the whole world asking how she does that_

_Hot girl, hands off, don't touch that_

_Look at that I bet you wishing you could clutch that_

When she was done, Dana seized the hold of the mic and sang about how

_I’m so fancy_

_You already know_

_I’m in the fast lane_

_From L.A. to Tokyo_

“What are you smoking girls?” I pried, trying not burst into laughter.

“Too much sugar last night, need to get rid of it,” Dana explained starting another crazy song.

“Wanna join, Mad Max?” Kris invited me, but my attention was already elsewhere.

“Tempting but you surely understand I’d rather join her.” I pointed towards the kitchen. Victoria briefly looked up from the pan, and our eyes met. She gave me the cutest smile before turning back to the stove.

“You know, she never makes pancakes for me.” Said Kristine, but my world was already cut to only one occurrence.

I sauntered to Victoria, and my right hand slipped under her tank top. She leant into me with ease. “Hey, babe.” I pressed my lips to her ear. “Top of the morning to you.” I couldn’t see, but somehow again I sensed she smiled. For a moment we stayed like that. It had never been on my Wishlist. Being intimate with anyone. I had never strived for such a deep connection with another person. But standing here with her, taking pleasure in her soft body pressed against mine, inhaling her captivating scent, I couldn’t freaking imagine how I ever could be without it. Without her. She flipped the pancake and turned to me.

“Morning.” Hell, it was. I thought when the slow sensual kiss took me by surprise. A wonderful surprise. 

“The coffee machine is broken. We’re going to Starfucks to bring some coffee.” Kristine was saying something, “We’ll be back in twenty. Or rather thirty,” but I didn’t catch a hint of it.

“I missed you in bed,” I murmured into the kiss. “I’d definitely love to be woken up by your magical lips.”

“I…” Victoria’s expression changed, but I was unable to guess what she was thinking. “I need to carry out this mission first.” She softly pushed me away and turned back to the stove. When the pancake was finished, I had her attention again. “I went for a walk in the morning. To think about things. From a different perspective. Which I don’t have when you’re around.”

“Okay,” I said and pulled her back to my arms. “Tell you what. You can tell me what the perspective showed you and I’m going to explain why you’re wrong.” Frankly, I hoped we were past the _I’m cursed_ phase, already. Although if we weren’t, I was ready to prove to Victoria how much I cared about her. Every single morning, again. If I had to.

“So, you suppose I’m wrong.”

“I do not suppose. I know, Victoria.”

“Shame. Because the realisation I made this morning Max Caulfield, is… The ultimate enlightenment of mine … is that I will rather be happy with you for one more day and then suffer forever, than not taking this leap of faith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter because I love it. It was a hell of an emotional rollercoaster to write it. I was thinking about that moment like forever. How Max is telling Victoria, she’s in love with her. How everything from the very beginning, from the very first moment Max met, Victoria is finally supposed to make sense. How this connection is built brick by brick. How Max comes a long way to fully embrace this sensation of being in love. Yet, I didn’t want that moment to be opulent rather simple. But simple in the most beautiful way. Like _to see the world in grain of sand and heaven in a wildflower,_ like _hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in hour._ I hope I got at least close to my goal.
> 
> You know at the very early stage of writing this, I guess I am overusing this statement. Still, sometimes I really feel like the story writes itself as much as I am creating it. (also you are shaping it through your feedback). So, at the very early stage, the name of this work in progress of mine was Rise of Max Caulfield. Because she is really becoming the badass super Max, just without superpowers, step by step.
> 
> But then I realise Victoria is not just part of this journey of Max. She is part of Max as well. This is the journey of two of them. It is Rise of Maximum Victory, it is about getting a clear view of the world through understanding someone else. It is this perfect fusion of two people.
> 
> Yeah, I know cheesy as fuck, pretty idealistic or bluntly naïve. No such love exists in the real world. And that’s why it must exist at least in the world of fiction.
> 
> But don’t get cajoled by the sweetness of the moment. We are investigating a murder in here. The vile wickedness is waiting in the shadows, and when it shows up, it will take a life or two until it’s defeated.
> 
> Anyway, thank you, guys, for reading. This has been such an amazing experience for me. But the time has come for only once in two weeks updates. The investigation will start in the next chapter, and it’s a bit more difficult to write about technical stuff than about how lost Victoria is in Max’s eyes. At least for me as a non-native speaker. And I can be really “anal” about having everything connected, like totally connected so I do not want to publish something I am not 100 percent satisfied with. So once in two weeks updates from this point.
> 
> And if you are not bored with my rambling already, I have a little bit more trivia (not so much) related to the story.
> 
>  **Anna Vigdis Engen** is an entirely fictional character, I created her. Although **Natasha Nazarova** was inspired by a real person. An outstanding athlete whose parents are Eastern European immigrants, now living in Western Europe, where she was born as well. And this athlete, unfortunately, lives in the glass closet.
> 
> I do respect everyone’s right to come out or not to come out if they chose not to do that. Yet I wished athletes like Natasha Nazarova (and the person her character was based on), could give an example. I do understand why they are wary. Most of the post-soviet countries are a special kind of mental. Where populist leaders use hyped nationalism, or zealous religiosity to find any enemy of the state. And using this non-existent enemy and fear to cement their power. (Although I believe this situation is not strictly exclusive for Eastern Europe)
> 
> So I wish these people like Natasha could find the courage and show every girl experiencing a hardship of being a lesbian in post-soviet or any country, that they are not alone. You are not alone, girls. I wished they would send a message that being a lesbian is not anything faulty, and no one should be ashamed of it. I wish these athletes would realise how powerful they really are and how they can make a difference. No matter what the despotic psychotic leaders of their motherland are saying. Like Vladimir Putin or Viktor Orban.


	24. Case Closed, Case Opened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year guys! And kudos to tkyash for editing

**Max Caulfield**

**Monday, September 14, Year 2, Day 365**

_I might be a bit tense and act a bit out of character, but that doesn’t mean I care about you or us any less._ I had reassured Victoria this morning when I had sensed the discomfort in her. The discomfort that had undoubtedly been based on my own state of mind. This was huge, and there was no surprise that my usual functionality was affected. Yet, I had believed I could handle anything that came my way. I had been wrong.

After today's classes, we had come to the Archives with only one intention. To enter the CRIFID and check Chloe’s case. I had felt a whole range of emotions. Anticipation, because I had finally made it. Fear, because what if I wouldn’t be able to find enough clues for reopening the case. A sadness because Chloe will still be dead, no matter how successful I would end up. And also, happiness, because Victoria understood everything and was willing to come on this journey with me.

Now, I just felt anger. Just the pure, undiluted rage.

It had been revealed that only closed cases were available for research by the students. The cases that had gained the status of the so-called _cold cases_ earlier than 10 years ago were off-limits. Because technically the investigation was still going on. _Well fuck my ass, it didn’t! No one fucking cared about Chloe’s case seven years ago and definitely didn’t now_.

Anyway, any student needed to send an official request, first. And just after that, those requested cases were available for checking. Usually, most of the requests were approved, but the statutory time for dealing with the request was 60 days. _Sixty fucking days!_

“So, it’s a fucking imbecile rule then, isn’t it?” I heard myself yelling at the officer who served as the Archives administrator. It was hardly my usual antics, yet I planned to tell her she could stick the request form to the place that saw no sun. But Victoria most likely expected that, so she swiftly stole the paper from me. Which made my possible treat vain and pointless. I couldn’t tell the administrator officer to stick the form anywhere if I didn't have the form in my possession, in the first place.

“I’m going to pretend the last ten minutes didn’t happen, constable.” She showed a lot more empathy than I deserved. “And the next time I see you, you’ll have an apology and respect to the chain of command, at your disposal.” It didn’t cease my urge to strangle her though.

“Thank you, inspector, we’ll be on our way.” Victoria, who had been just an idle observer until now, prevented the bloodshed and saved my freaking ass again when she nudged me away from the administrator's desk. 

I aggressively dismissed her attempt to take my hand. Her intervention only bred my ire. Yet, I was aware she not only saved my sorry ass but my career and my future. We were walking through the hall in silence. The anger still in me. Nevertheless, I knew I had fucked up royally. And Victoria? She was perfect. As always. For the whole time today, she had stood by my side. When it had been clear my officer in training ID wouldn’t allow me to check Chloe’s case she hadn’t preached, I should stop. She hadn’t come up with _well-meant_ suggestions of what _WE_ should do. I had let her in, but she very much understood it was still _my task,_ and if she pressed, I’d get stuck in my head and wouldn’t budge. Yeah, while I had done the exact thing I promised not to do, she had done everything right. She had supported me, not babysit me. She let me decide what to do. She let me be angry and hadn’t nagged about how petty it was. And only when I had been about to completely lose my mind and insult a superior officer, she had subtly intervened. 

Victoria’s care and support didn’t make me feel weak. Which would be the worst outcome. Well, this utterly unexpected rage wasn’t great either. But, most of all, I felt like a fool who couldn’t control her emotions. I was crazy mad about the imbecile rule and even more with myself. I didn’t feel useless. A mess? Yes. A failure? No. The failure was that retarded rule. I wished I could tell Victoria, but at the moment I knew if I spoke about this topic, I wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears.

“Wanna fill the form and send the request right away or maybe take your time?” She asked tentatively. Not suggested, not pressed, but gave me control of what’s going to happen next. She was perfect after all. Damn, I’m gonna work my freaking ass off to make it up to her. But right now, I could barely walk. My eyes were stinging, and that freaking lump in my throat was impossible to swallow. So, I shook my head.

“No, prob.”

“Imma call the cab. Seems like it’s gonna rain.” I muttered when we were out of the building. If she hadn’t been aware that I was on the edge of crying, she must be now. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and hoped I was making the right request. When I closed the UBER app, I barely could see through the tears that dwelled in my eyes in the meantime. Victoria carefully opened my bag and dug for sour candy. Oh, Gawd. What would I do, if she wasn’t here with me today?

“That one’s yours.” She pointed to the silver Škoda Superb that pulled in not far from us after a moment. “Do you want me to come with you?” This question was the first flaw in her perfect performance today. Maybe there was the best intention behind such a decision. She gave me the freedom of choice. Yet, I wished in this case, she just chose to come with me. When she didn’t, I couldn’t fight the feeling that she wasn’t all fired up to spend more time with me. No one would blame her; I was a shitty companion and acted like a shitty person for most of the day. So instead of telling her, I’d love for her to come with me I just shrugged. Which she interpreted as a rejection.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Despite everything, she gave me a warm smile and kissed me on my forehead. What she did next finished me. Victoria opened the door for me, and when I hopped in, she spoke with a tender voice. “I love you.”

I couldn’t even look up, let alone reply. Why did she have to be so amazing? When no reply came from me, Victoria shut the door, and the UBER moved. Before I completely crumbled, I remembered how powerful an ally breathing could be. Fortunately, the driver didn’t pay any attention to my miserable state. He had probably already seen worse. Ten minutes of driving and steady breaths settled me enough to function again. Before I got out, I thanked him. He just nodded, empathetically.

The second step was to wipe my face stained with tears. The hem of my sleeve was as good a tool as any. The last task, and the most important one, required another tool. I took out the phone, rated my drive with 5 stars and sent a text to Victoria.

_I love you, too._

She read it in no time. But the reply didn’t come. I stood in front of the dorm’s entrance and stared at the screen until it went dark. Waiting. Watching the hardened glass getting stained with raindrops. It started to rain, and I realised I was nowhere close to being triggered. Wowser. I stood there, my clothes getting wet, yet I felt no panic. Just sadness. And then the screen lit up.

_I put a form into your bag. See ya tomorrow._

It wasn’t what I yearned for, but it was definitely better than what I deserved. Filled with the new life, I moved inside. Once in my room I crashed onto the bed and did some more deep inhales and exhales. “O Gawd, what a crazy mess you are, Max!”

It was no easy riddle to figure out what in the hell was happening to me. A year ago, I would never see myself as someone who could burst with rage. Or bear so many emotions at once. Today had proved me wrong. Again. I had believed I was ready for anything, but everything had turned to the direction I wouldn't have expected at all. And it had thrown me off the edge. I guessed there was still a lot I didn’t know about little old me. 

I got up from the bed and rechecked my phone. No new messages. For a brief period, I wondered if I should write another text. But were there really any words that could have diminished the outburst of lunacy I had released earlier? I conclude there were not. Victoria had made it clear. If I wanted something, I had to work for it, not just wish for it. I threw the phone on the bed and reached for the bag. From where I stood, there were only two options for me. I get my shit together quickly, or I lose my mind. And most importantly, I lose Victoria. 

I found the form in my bag. There was also a sheet of paper pinned to it, with handwritten notes of all the vital information. The folder number of Chloe’s case, the Archive administration supervisor's name who was supposed to be the receiver of the request, and so much more. The information my anger-poisoned brain had missed. Damn. When I had been nothing more than a petty Karen, Victoria had been thoughtful and smart, taking notes. Another reason I had to make this right. Fucking hell, I loved her so much.

* * *

**Victoria Chase**

**Tuesday, September 15, Year 2, Day 366**

I swore Kristine was on the brink of self-combustion. But she still didn’t investigate Max’s sudden disappearance. Since Friday, we had been inseparable, but yesterday when I had come back in the evening, she hadn’t accompanied me.

Kristine’s look full of dread had welcomed me but fortunately, she had been so taken back it had affected her ability to speak. I’d just said I was tired and ready for bed. In the morning, the smell of coffee and croissants had woken me up. Which was totally out of character for Kris. She only ate food and drank drinks she bought, because her kitchen abilities were the worst. Chamomile tea of her grandma was the sole creation she dared to make in the kitchen.

When I had left my room, I had figured out quickly, the breakfast was a delivery, yet it had surprised me. Since we lived together, it was either no breakfast (because I was down in the dumps after the Steph fiasco) or me making them. I had thanked her for the courtesy but hadn’t inquired no further what had been behind it. Which I assumed she hadn’t expected at all because it had left her, miss eloquent, speechless. Now we were sitting in the tram heading to school, and I could tell her head was three seconds away from exploding.

“Please tell me, you didn’t break up. Please.”

To be honest, I wasn’t in a cheerful mood, yesterday’s messed-up situation had lit up all the red lights that could be lit up. Yet, I found Kristine’s extreme concern deeply amusing. 

“You know, you can spend a night without your girlfriend and still be very much together, don’t you?”

“But you have that look!” She screamed, finally releasing all the drama she had been holding for hours.

“What look, Kris?” I asked, still quite amused. It was a nice change, dealing with Kris’ cute hysteria instead of Max’s gnawing one.

“The look, Vic! _Dead inside look._ Do you feel me? That look, _I don’t fucking care if the world is gonna burn because I’m dead inside._ So please tell me, I’m just going mental from watching too many episodes of the Vampire Diaries, and you didn’t break up.”

We got out of the tram, and I was taking my time with my answer. It was widely appealing to keep Kris tense like this.

“Victoria!” She hit my shoulder just before we reached the entrance door.

“We didn’t.” I finally ended her misery.

“Awesome!” She gushed like she had just won the lottery.

“But we might, you know. Nothing is written in stone. Anyone can break up. Even Magda Eriksson and Pernille Harder can break up, eventually. Although I’ll rather die than see that day.”

“What? Who’s--” Using two lezzie ladies as reference obviously didn’t work for her. She had no knowledge of this amazing role-model couple I was talking about. “Never mind. Just drop the shit that you might break up. You can’t. You’re fucking Maximum Victory. The real thing.”

“Why are you so--” I trailed off not quite sure what I intended to ask.

“You’re the hope for all lost causes. Cold cases, closed cases that deserve to be reopened. I bet no one would have bet their money on you a year ago. But now, you’re so fucking sickeningly in love. You're the proof that love is possible, no matter what. So, don’t fucking screw that Vicky!”

“Since when does Kristine Prescott believe in love?” I teased. But she stayed severe.

“I don’t. I believe in you and Max.” Kris said the moment we spotted Max standing in front of the class.

She was… She… _Fuck._ My brain froze. Kristine linked our arms and dragged me to her, because apparently, my body froze, too.

“The class starts in three minutes. So, remember Maximum Victory. Whatever you’ve done, she still loves you.” Kristine said something and left us alone, but my only concern was how despondent Max looked. I’d never seen her like this. With my whole existence, I desired nothing else than to hold her in my arms and tell her she’s the strongest person I’ve met. That I knew, even when the battle might seem endless, she’d never give up. 

But what if the reason behind her devastation was the fact, that she had realised I had been right, and there was no place for me in her world? If that was the case, she must know it’ll break me. I felt like if I spoke, I’d crumble. Max was at a loss for words just as much. 

“Ladies, care to join us?” Said professor Turing, presumably, passing by us. We both nodded.

It took everything in me, but I gained some much-needed composure. “We should go,” I said and turned to the classroom. Max's hand snatched mine at rocket speed, but it didn’t make the touch any less gentle.

“I love you.” She said and disappeared into the classroom. I followed. Was _I love you_ the promise of the a future, or was it goodbye?

I had no time to ponder. Professor Turing, our Cyber Crime class teacher, gave us a very brief introduction to cyberspace, computer fraud and how the theft of classified information worked. He added even shorter explanations on how hacking worked. The cherry on the top was a sophisticated task to break a cypher and trace who had handed down unsolicited information about poor customers' credit cards. What a great task for the first lesson. He gave the impression that being here was torture and wasn’t trying much to hide it.

“I don’t think any of you can do this but surprise me.” He said nervously before he left us alone to our task. He pointed out that he needed to make a video call with the secretary for internal affairs.

Whether he was out of sorts because of the job he had to do for ministry or because of speaking in front of people, I couldn’t decipher. But I could see that while cybercrime might be his speciality, teaching definitely wasn’t. 

Professor Turing also chose the pairings (probably using some algorithm in his head) and my partner in crime, well against the crime was Trevor. The poor guy had dyslexia, so breaking cyphers could hardly be his virtue. But he tried, oh he did. He deserved that I invested my skills equally, but despite me venturing to give all of myself, my effort didn’t bring much fruit.

“Oh, fuck this. He set us up, anyway. There’s no way out. Let’s drop it. Not even overachieving Kristine can solve this.” He offered to abandon the task. And I was eternally grateful. 

“I heard you!” Kristine yelled from the neighbouring desk, but her frustrated voice revealed Trevor was correct in his assumption. 

Then he lowered his voice and surprised me even more. “You know, it’s cool if you fight. It happens. It doesn’t mean anything.” He glanced towards Max, who was paired with Zach. I’d bet my money they weren’t working on the cypher either.

“Trevor…” I spoke, but frankly, I was so astonished that he cared and so drained according from the whole situation, I had no words at my disposal.

“No, no, no. Let me finish. You were hysterical, maybe said something stupid, blamed Max for everything. Or didn’t even say anything, just had this attitude that made her feel like she’s a failure. But it’s cool, she knows you, and she understands you love her. I mean Dana is the best girl ever, but she has these moods, too. And when it happens, she cannot control that. I guess few women can. What’s great is that after it’s over, she always sees and makes me see it’s not the real her.”

I had a hard time in holding back the tears. Trevor thought it was me who caused the rift between us. One more reason why we shouldn’t— 

“‘T’was me, who acted like a hysterical mess.” Max, who had apparently eavesdropped our conversation, stood up and spoke in front of the whole class. “I was a selfish idiot. A shitty person. When Victoria did everything right.”

She approached me and the cypher I was struggling with since yesterday was finally broken.

“‘T’was, me.” She took my hand, and I wished we didn’t have an audience. Because I would silence her with a kiss, at once and erase yesterday from both of our memories. That option wasn’t on the table, though.

Instead of kissing, I pulled her closer and made my voice barely audible. “Max, you’re aware all eyes are on you?”

She reduced the distance between us to nothing and spoke into my chest. “Yes, but please could you not remind me. It raises the risk of fainting.”

I reached for her chin and made her look at me. “You don’t have to do this, now.” I smiled softly, “Or ever. I understand. You know.”

“Oh, I have to.” Her fingers stroked my face with all tenderness. “You—”

“Well class, were you successful in breaking the cypher.” Professor Turing entered the scene. And seemed totally uninterested in the peculiar circumstance. Just his crazy cypher. At first, everyone seemed to be more concerned about resolving our situation than about Professor Turing’s cypher. 

“We surely were.” Zach’s words underlined the whole situation. “Just not the cypher you provided, Professor.”

“No one made it, then?” Professor Turing asked, visibly perplexed.

“We did!” Kristine, who was teamed with Warren, raised her hand after an uncomfortable silence. Her usual vigour was replaced with a twitch. Which made me think they weren’t successful, and it was just a stunt. One way or another, her action refocused all the attention away from us. 

Max didn’t say anything more, just pull us down to the vacant seats gently and let us watch how Kris and Warren were embarrassing themselves. 

“We owe them a lot, don’t we?” I joked relishing Max’s scent, her touch, her body, her softness.

“I do. You don’t.” She raised up our linked hands and kissed the back of mine. Then I saw a spark in her eye again, and the misery from yesterday was gone entirely. It made me love her even more.

“Professor Turing.” She hailed. “Come decipher our dynamic first, before you give us a hard time. And break our souls with your mastermind if you must. Alas, don’t forget we are a very integrated system. Our little group. So whatcha say to a coffee? Or beer perhaps?” It was brave of Max. And foolish. And so so so sexy. And to everyone’s surprise, Professor Turing accepted.

An hour later, we all found ourselves in Willow’s cafe. Professor Turing lost a significant bit of his prickliness. He also admitted he hated teaching and people in general, only accepted the offer because Professor Heywood was his good friend. When things went too casual and moved away from cybercrime, Max took my hand and led me to a free booth where there were only the two of us. 

First, we were just sitting up. Like for two seconds. But after that we started to gravitate towards each other to the point where I completely leant into her chest. I loved it there. I loved her arms around me, the arms that were gentle but resolute in their effort to not let me go.

“I know it’s too little, too late but I’m sorry. I was acting like a moron.” She apologised again.

“You were.” There was no denying that.

“I’m s—” I moved my head slightly and banished her effort with a small kiss.

“Considering the circumstances, it’s understandable. And an apology is never too little, and it never comes too late. Thank you for yours.” Another kiss didn’t play a silencing role. It was a reward. Reward well deserved thought, when I felt Max smiling into it. It made me beyond happy. Yesterday had been a nightmare, but it was gone. I broke the kiss slowly and took her face in my palms. She was so freaking beautiful. I could see the Instagram trendsetters disagreeing with me, but I saw her as the most beautiful woman in the world. The road ahead of us wasn’t easy. Because of her past. And mine. But her pure heart made me not only believe in us but also fight for us. And I needed Max to know that.

“It might be harsh from time to time, like yesterday.” I started. “But I accepted your proposal on Saturday. Which means I promised you to give the best of myself. I pledged to face the challenges toe to toe with you and do my part to keep our relationship alive and exciting. And most importantly I promised to love you in good times and bad, with all I can give.”

“You-- you did?” Max’s elevated eyes had a hard time believing what I was saying. Well, technically I didn’t use this exact exposition. At least not verbally, but...

“Yeah, in my head, I did.”

“Wowser. So, are we like married now?” She gushed, and her enthusiasm made a few heads turn.

“No, Max. We are not.” I chuckled. “We had one date. No marriage, yet. Are you still living in some cheesy fanfiction?”

“With you around, always.” She clutched me in her arms, and I could barely breathe, although I gave zero fucks about that. “Anyway,” she slightly released her grip so we could face each other, “let me make it up to you. A second date. On Thursday. Much better than the last one.”

“Max,” I had to chuckle again at her pureness, “at the moment, using the possibilities of the world around us, I can’t imagine a better date than our first one. Nothing compares to—”

“Don’t underestimate what my love for you could do with my creativity, Victoria Chase.” She said in all seriousness, and I would believe she could make the Spice girls (all spice girls including Victoria) have one more world tour. Just for me.

“Okay. Alright. Fair point. But, Max, the only thing that makes me really happy is when you're happy. Understood? So, no need for—”

“Bring your most fancy clothes” She kept the stern tone, and I was seriously thinking that she was considering the Spice Girls’ reunion.

“Max!”

“Or find another girlfriend.” She spoke dangerously close to my lips; very much aware she was the only woman for me. 

“What if I did.” I teased, using the most seductive voice of mine.

“You’re going to miss the best date of your life.” She outperformed me, and I couldn’t resist kissing her anymore. Although being in public, we had to keep ourselves in control. So, before I could become greedy, I ceased and found myself comfortable in her arms again.

“Alright, that settles it then. A date with Max Caulfield. Contact my assistant and discuss the details.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure thing.” She laughed and kissed my hair. But then switched to serious mode again. “Wanna… wanna hear about the case? About what I found out this morning when I went to the archives and apologised to the administrative officer.”

“You bet!” I squeezed her hand softly and prompted her to continue.

Max thanked me first for the request form and the notes I had left in her bag yesterday. Then she revealed what she had found out. According to my memo, _The_ _Case is not everything, CRIFID doesn’t have all the answers,_ she had tried to find Eliot in the Resident register. Her intention had been to trace criminal activity around his whereabouts and maybe find some pattern, or a connection. When she had discovered not a single person with the name Eliot Hampden matched Eliot THE suspect, it had felt like another hit under the belt. It had been even worse when she had checked the possibility of a name change and still hadn’t figured out shit. Like he had never existed. Max had decided to approach the administrative officer, and she had chosen an utterly different tone than yesterday. She had asked if she may have overlooked something. 

The administrator had called the Arcadia Regional Resident Register, the only office where Eliot could request the name change if he had done so. The clerk had been able to find an original citizen named Eliot Hampden. The last entry, according to his file, was that his request for a name change was approved and executed. Nothing more. The clerk pointed out that this occurrence was unusual because the software should automatically link the new identity with the old one. According to the law, it was the same citizen, no matter if their name was different.

 _“Could it be a result of a deliberate effort?”_ Max had asked, and the administrative officer couldn’t count it out, but she had reminded her it could also be a simple glitch.

“You think he could help us?” Back in the present, I said, looking towards Professor Turing.

“He could. But why would he? It’s a glitch in a Regional Resident Registry system, not a sophisticated algorithm for the Ministry of internal affairs.” Max made a well-expressed note.

“You already cracked his shell a bit, I’d say the odds are in your favour.” I was about to jump out of the booth and immediately seek Professor Turing. But Max pulled me back.

“Wait, wait, Vic. It’s a delicate matter and if we demand too much, too soon he could shove us off indefinitely.” I felt my heart melting. Not because she was rational and calm, completely opposite to her antics yesterday. But because she said we and meant WE.

“You’re right, but this is huge. If Elliot deliberately erased the record that connects his new identity with the old one, it only can mean he’s hiding something.”

“I’m more than aware of that.” Max sighed. “That’s why I have to be ready when I face him. And yesterday proved I’m not.”

I cupped her face gently and realised once again how much I admired her. Her strength, dedication, will, passion, ability to evaluate any data, and transgress them to a viable objective. “You will be. You will be, Max.”

She bit her lower lip and left a couple of kisses on the palm of my hand. “Gawd, I wish we could just… Fuck..” She blushed and gave me a burning look full of longing. She didn’t need to say what she wished for. I wanted the same thing. But we had two more lectures in the afternoon. And then I promised my brother Jamie, I would spend an evening with him while Max had a movie night with Rachel. 

“Hold the thought, until tomorrow’s date is over.”

“I won’t think about anything else.”


	25. Lock the door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be a PWP, kind of. The light version, I guess. If such thing as light version of PWP exists. Well, it shows I cannot do PWP, anyway. So, it’s still more plot and less the other P., yet it does contain plenty of explicit scenes. You’ve been warned.

**Victoria Chase**

**Wednesday, September 16, Year 2, Day 367**

I put on my arctic blue shirt but didn't button it up, just stared at my reflection in the mirrored sliding doors. Was arctic blue the right colour for this evening? Was the shirt the right choice of wardrobe? I wondered. This was just a preliminary round of dressing up, so there was no need for that, yet. Max was head over heels for me, now I knew that. There was no need for a show. Yet, I desired to give her a view that was going to leave her speechless.

Max. I hadn’t seen her for a while, and I already missed her like crazy. Oh, goddess, I was such a sucker for this girl. She was supposed to pick me up in an hour. Which meant another long 60 minutes without her. Freshly out of the shower, dressing up sounded like the most meaningful task to spend my time on. But arctic blue was definitely eliminated. I took off the shirt, slid the door open and put it back on the rack. Which left me only in my black lace inset cheeky panties. 

"Holy hell!" I looked towards the incoming inflated sound, catching Kris stealing a glance at me. "Ryan Gosling, Henry Cavill, Regé-Jean Page, forgive me, I think I'm switching teams."

"Uh-huh. Should I be ecstatic, now?" I laughed unimpressed by her dramatic announcement. 

"Of course, you should." Her eyes appreciatively examined my body up and down, but I knew better.

"Kris, you wouldn't give up a dick, if your life depended on it."

"Well, yeah, okay. Whatever." She lunged towards me. "Anyway, Max Caulfield is one lucky girl. That ass of yours," she slapped it mischievously, "is to die for."

I intended to object. Well not about the ass theory. I knew my assets well and my ass was definitely one of them. I was about to say I was the lucky girl because Max Caulfield was taking me on a date, but the bell rang.

"I’ll go check it.” Kris proclaimed. “You do… whatever you were doing before I came to ogle your flawless naked body.”

“Fuck you, Kris.”

“You wish.” She said before disappearing. I picked another shirt and put it on without buttoning it. This time the colour was rose, and I slid the door back, so I could check the mirror.

“You’re shitting me, Max Caulfield!” I heard Kristine’s exaggerated voice coming from the hall. Still, the smile that had just appeared on my face had nothing to do with it, rather, with the other occurrence. “It’s gross. This sweet, annoying relationship of yours. I’m by the authority of the ministry of healthcare confiscating this bouquet. Or you’re both at risk of diabetes.”

“But… It’s… it’s for…” Max had brought me flowers. And she was about to defend them to death, it seemed. I bet they were exquisite. But I didn’t have to be Nancy Drew to see Kris wasn’t acting as cool as claimed. When I had Max, she had just so many questions of who she was really supposed to be. She deserved the flowers more than I did.

“Just give it to her, freckles. Or we won’t get away with it.” I shouted. “Your presence is the best gift for me, anyway.”

Max probably gave up because their conversation had faded for a moment. Until Kris’ pervasive voice was heard again. “Max Caulfield! Don’t you dare take off those shoes! It’s a fashion crime, walking around in that mesmerising dress of yours barefoot.” Max wore a dress. What a surprise! The vibe of anticipation seized my body. 

“Okay, but before I commit a much more serious crime than a crime of fashion, remind me. Who am I going on a date with? You or Victoria?” Max joked.

“Trust me, she’s gonna love the decision.” Kris chuckled somewhere in the living room and in the reflection of the sliding mirrored doors of my closet I saw Max coming into my room. 

Her burgundy lace sleeveless midi dress combined with classy sandals of the same colour was pure bliss. Rachel Amber’s work, no doubt. And while Max may not have an eye for fashion, she had a magnificent body. Insanely symmetric, astoundingly lean having just that right amount of muscle mass that made her look like a Greek goddess. Potent, fit, yet absolutely feminine. And her wardrobe highlighted every extraordinary part of her.

“You should wear this more often.” I gave her a naughty pout. Well, to her reflection in the mirror while thinking about how the rose colour would not do it for me tonight . It didn’t match with her burgundy dress. Maybe I should pick a dress, too. “You look astonishing.”

Max didn’t say anything, just sauntered towards me, her eyes never breaking their connection with mine. I saw the lust in them. Greed. And I felt the same swelling up inside me. When the distance between us was none, she encircled my waist from behind and pressed our bodies together. “You do.”

She whispered into my ear. Thanks to the heels, she was a bit taller than usual. As tall as me barefoot. Her lips reached my neck without trouble. Her scent and her proximity alone would have done wonders to my body. But she added a touch. Her hands slid under my unbuttoned shirt and slowly traced up to my bare breast. In the mirror reflection, she was watching me watching herself bringing me a wave of pleasure. And I found it extremely sexy.

“You’re early.” I breathed and shut my eyes briefly, trying to stay sane.

“I know.” She admitted. Or moaned, spilling a couple of kisses on the back of my neck.

 _“Oh, gross. Get a room.”_ I registered Kristine’s laugh somewhere in the distance. _“Or, wait, you already have a room. Anyway, I’m leaving for yoga and then I have a pottery class aaaaand…. I probably don’t exist for you right now, so bye guys.”_

“Seems like we’re alone.” Max indicated, and one of her daring hands reached my erected nipple. I harboured no will to reply with words. But as much as I could tell, my low whimpers were precisely the reaction she desired.

It had taken some time for me to admit that this spark of ours had been there since Day 1. It had made me weak on my knees before, when I had tried to suppress it. But what she was doing to me now, when I wasn’t suppressing anything was insane. Every touch of her gentle fingers sent a bolt of pleasure through my whole body. And by the peculiar coincidence, I could watch all this happening in the mirror, which made me enjoy it twice as much. 

“I remember…” She spoke between kisses. My neck was blazing, oh, but it was nothing compared to what was going on between my thighs. “I remember how my eyes got stuck to your cleavage, the first day we met.” When her profound care of my breast made me moan louder, I remembered what her proximity had done to my body. I relived the tremor in my lower belly but a thousand times more intense. “I thought they were divine, these magnificent pearls of yours.” I thought what she was doing to them was perfect. As one of her hands found just the right balance between a caress and tease, the other helped my unfastened rose shirt fall down to the floor. Which allowed her lips to move from worshipping my neck to my upper back. Every little brush electrified my skin, leaving a tingling sense of delight surging through my nerves. “I'd never would’ve believed once that I’ll be allowed to…”

“Max…” I needed to tell her I had no desire to ever let anyone else do what she was doing. There were too many words for my brain was in a daze, though. Max released the kiss and looked up, meeting my eyes in the mirror, and I knew. I didn’t need to say anything because she knew.

“You…” The greed had diminished, only pure devotion left. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” She said in a way that made me feel I really was. “And I have to say…” She added a bit of naughtiness to her tone and to her actions while her free hand slid down and met my soaked lingerie.” I’m beyond excited ‘tis me, who caused…” Her middle finger pressed that special spot and , “...this.”

“Fuck!” She wasn’t even inside my panties yet and I was already on cloud nine.

“That’s exactly what I’m planning to do.” The last thing my eyes caught was her naughty grin, and there was no silk decorative fabric between her hand and my dripping pussy anymore. With the tremors of bliss causing my legs to buckle, I had to catch myself against the wardrobe door. I was a trembling moaning mess. With every whimper, her arm squeezed me tighter, and her fingers gave me a bit more intensity and pressure to their gliding movement around my swollen clit.

“Max...Max…”

The wave of heat, the avalanche of pleasure, the storm of euphoria . Those were all about to collide inside my pussy. “Max…” I screamed when the final explosion finished inside me. I locked her hand between my flooded thighs. She locked her arm around me. And we could both enjoy the remnants of my massive climax, wave after wave that was only diminishing slowly. 

“So, this is how I look after an orgasm,” I smirked at my reflection when I had finally caught my breath and gathered enough stamina to look up.

“Uh-huh.” She smirked back. “Absolutely gorgeous.” And left a couple of kisses on my sweaty cheek. Another low moan escaped my lips when Max slowly removed her hand from my still pulsing centre. Whatever she planned to do with it, her efforts were met with no success. I seized her wrist and raised it to my mouth. It was covered with the delicious aftermath of my orgasm. The salacity and scent of lust engrossed me. This mirror thing came across as absolutely astounding. It gave us a chance to keep track of every reaction our actions had in the body of the other. And now, the tables were turned, and it was me who saw how the anticipation of my next move stunned Max’s whole body. 

“I think I’m going to keep your hand for a while.” I started with light kisses tracing the fingers that had given me great enjoyment a moment ago. “It deserves to be properly appreciated.” When I put them inside my mouth, a reaction came in no time. Max bit her lower lip, and she shut her eyes tightly in anticipation of my advancesI found it adorable. And hot. And afterwards, she let out a low groan when I sucked on them, it made my body battery hundred percent recharged. I released her hand and spun to face her, real her, for the first time. Because I had to have her, at once.

My hands landed where her dress ended and found a way under, rolling the hem up. And once I had a full handful of her sexy ass, I lifted her up. My craving for her overcame me, and suddenly the bed was too far away, so I only made one step, and she ended up seated on my desk. Our lips crashed into a searing kiss,There were no more obstacles between me and the place I desired to delve into. I rolled up the edge of her dress even higher, not being careful at all about the delicate fabric. I just cared about what was waiting underneath. I broke the kiss and ducked down, eager to immerse myself into the pool of wetness. Max reacted promptly, spreading her legs and letting them rest on my shoulders. Yet, I stopped for a second. I’ve always known I liked women. Eating pussy for the first time had been an absolute joy. I hadn’t gotten a touch of Max’s, yet I knew it was going to be a whole different experience. Because it was the culmination of a new type of desire, an intensity I hadn’t yet unearthed in this world before her. 

I bit my lower lip and felt myself shudder with anticipation. And I also had no intention to stop myself from the pleasure to explore Max’s. My eyes went up, catching a glimpse of her face. Her partly opened lips were trembling, and her eyes bore a mesmerizing depth I’d never noticed. I imagined that hidden in the chilly blue was a profound immensity of yearning. Her breathing was becoming quicker and shallower. My only regret was she still had her dress on, and I couldn’t see her swollen nipples, almost ripping through the weave.

“You’re going to die…” I left a soft kiss on her throbbing clit. “...in pleasure,” and dove into the pond of wetness. She was dripping, oh she was. But it was hardly the only thing that added to my indulgence. When I showed no restraint from giving my tongue the freedom to travel through the folds of her lady parts to familiarise myself with every little space, she didn’t hold herself in check either. Whenever a sensitive spot was discovered, a source of maximum delight, I was rewarded in the form of a beautiful prize - the untamed sound of passion. From the excess of flooding, unremitting chain of moans and intensity of the grasp of her thighs around my head, it was clear she was about to reach her climax. But I didn’t wish for her just to come. I wanted her orgasm to be the hardest she had ever experienced before. I retreated from her pussy and slowly raised my chin up. In a second, she knew what I was doing.

“Fuck… fuck..” She gasped for air. “You’re killin’ me…”

“That’s what I promised, didn’t I?” My impish smile followed, but she wasn’t amused. She clutched my hips and yanked me in. The kiss was urgent and aggressive in a way, and I could swear I could climax just from the feeling of how much she wanted me. But she made it clear it was her time to come. Max’s hands moved from my hips, and on the way up, they left soft scratches on my back. Then she refrained from the kiss and nudged my cheek to bring her lips closer to my ear.

“Go. Inside. Now!” It wasn’t a plea or a request. It was a directive order I was about to follow by any means. When my fingers slipped in, her body arched. Our position gave my two fingers the perfect angle to reach the place inside that could bring her to heaven. As her reactions were still like an opened book, it took me no time to find that special spot that was aching for attention, throwing her over the edge. And after that, it didn’t take much. I revived the kiss, and through a couple of well-placed rubs, I made Max scream. Some say the G-spot doesn’t exist. Well, fuckers, I was pretty sure I had just found Max’s. My fingers were imprisoned by the sweetest constrictions of her pussy. She convulsed in my arms, having no control over her body until the contractions lasted. I couldn’t say I wasn’t satisfied with my work. When her limp body finally gained the ability to function again, our eyes met, and she looked dead serious.

“You ruined my dress, Victoria Chase. Now we cannot go to dinner.”

“We can call Kris, she has no problem sharing her wardrobe.” I came up with a solution quickly.

“Oh, fuck the dinner, I was teasing.” Max laughed and pulled me into a kiss. “Unless you still wanna go,” she offered.

“No.”

“And what do you desire, then?”

“To lock the door. And stay in this room forever. Doing what we were doing a moment ago. But perhaps in bed for a change and cloth less.”

//

I woke up feeling Max’s body stirring below mine. All my muscles were sore, even those I probably hadn’t known existed before. But it was delightful pain.

“Are you awake, freckles?” I let my fingers dance along her jaw.

“Awake? Are you cereal, babe? The last couple of hours were like a dream.” Max kissed my forehead, “I never want to be awake again.”

I smiled into the soft bared skin of her chest, and If my energy wasn’t momentarily rejuvenating, I would probably continue this dream. The very naughty dream, filled with an almost insatiable hunger for Max. I was drained for the moment, thought.

“But since I need to pee, and I am starving, I suppose you can say I am awake now.” I heard Max chuckling. “although, it’s going to be a bit difficult, I guess.” I sensed her shifting a bit, probably reaching for her armband on the nightstand, “to order takeaway at 1:17 in the night.”

“Just go pee, freckles, and in the meantime, I’ll take care of the food.” The promise of leaving bed wasn’t the most pleasant, but since it was Max’s famished belly that needed to be filled, I was all in. “The neighbours would not be delighted if I were making waffles at 1:17 in the night, but there are other options. There are various cheeses in the fridge, grapes and I am sure we have pecans and walnuts in the cabinet.”

“Well, since there is no cooking involved, let me handle it. I promised you dinner, after all.” Max brought my hand playing with her cheek to her lips, and I was happy to oblige.

“You’re the best. Just put on a tee on, will ya? The left wardrobe, middle shelf.” I recommended to her right after she snuck out of the sheets. “Kristine would tease us about it forever if she encountered your delicious titties naked.”

“Sure thing, babe.” Max leant back as if she knew I was already missing her and placed a little kiss on my lips. “Be right back.”

Feeling myself already swimming in endorphins, I sensed my prostrate body uncoil and sink further into the sheets. I delighted in the way her scent lingered in the smooth, cool fabric. Goosebumps sprang up all around my skin, particularly across the taut flesh of my bare bottom. The memories of her a year ago swirled around my mind. She was so different now, yet the same. The quiet, humble girl who carried immense power with strength she wasn’t even aware of. The passion that could move unmovable objects.

I would not expect her to call me babe. Max had even admitted that she had never called anyone like that before, but it just fitted with me. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find it appealing. Unexpected but absolutely alluring. And the way she had possessed me today, almost right after she had arrived. Max Caulfield was indeed the woman with many secrets. Who would have guessed she bore such intense sexual energy? During one of our pillow talks during this night, she had confessed she had never been like this with anyone. I couldn’t be more pleased that it was me who unlocked this master ability of hers.

I buried my face into the pillow inhaling what was left of Max’s essence impatient to do the same with the crook of her neck once she was back.

“I have green grapes, red grapes, pecans, walnuts, Asiago, Edam and Gru— Gruya…I guess.”

“Gruyere.” I chuckled and checked the situation. Only with one eye though. Opening both would be too tiresome. Because turning my whole body to the side would be necessary. Max put the tray with food and two San Pellegrino bottles on the nightstand.

“Yep. That thing.” I saw her getting rid of the knee-length t-shirt borrowed from my wardrobe, revealing a much better view. The most awesome actually. “But thinking about it now, I’d rather savour something else first.”

Having no clue what she thought, I wished she rather stayed in that position for a little while longer. The dim light of the streetlight elevated the whole image of a bare-naked Max into something otherworldly.

Part of me still had difficulties in processing that I had been granted all this. All of her. I hadn’t resisted fantasising about her for the last couple of days. Or through the summer, on rare occasions when I had been left alone with my thoughts. And now I didn’t need to just imagine how she would taste, how she would arch below me when reaching her climax.

Also, another significant part of my curiosity had been satisfied. I finally experienced how Max Caulfield could be in bed. And it exceeded all of my expectations.

Her magnificent frame disappeared from my view just to connect with my senses differently. Max straddled me and let her fingertips slowly crawl up my back. If it wasn’t for the last couple of hours, I would say it was just a small act of tenderness. But when her lips joined in with many sloppy kisses around the whole place, it ignited my craving for her again, I knew she was plotting something.

When Max’s mouth reached my ear, her position shifted, so her drenched pussy was rubbing right against my ass.

“Have everyone ever told you,” she breathed while biting my ear softly, “that you have the hottest ass in the whole known universe?”

“Pretty much everyone.”

“And would you mind,” she asked, daring to let her teeth cut into my shoulder. And I couldn’t understand why I had thought I was too exhausted to come again. “If I took a little advantage of it.”

“Not at all. If you wouldn’t mind me profiting from you taking advantage of my hottest ass.”

“Be my guest.” She confirmed my invitation to her game of indulgence. And one of Max’s most favourite parts of my body was becoming profusely wet as she slowly started to hump it. This sole unexpected dare of hers would extend the limits of my pleasure. But as she was leaning over me, she allowed her fully ardent breast to massage my upper back catalysing my pleasure. As much as hers.

And while with every glaze of her crotch against my bum her mouth got close to my ear, she didn’t miss an opportunity to nibble it. To let her tongue tease every spot around it. And to enthral me with her enchanting words.

“Vic— Victoria.” Max moaned. “With you, I am… I am crossing one threshold after another. Entering these new worlds. Meeting this new version… of…of me. But I—I am not afraid. I feel joy. Excitement. I… I FEEL.”

And I felt her. In every meaning possible. And while she lifted her torso up to adjust for a better angle, my own climax became an easy task. And I wished for us to come together.

Max’s moans turned feral, her moves wholly zealous and I only regretted one thing. That I couldn’t see her riding my ass. Or how her stellar ravenous breasts were bouncing in the mad rhythm, her eyes rolling up in the upcoming wave of pleasure. One of my hands found hers pressed to my lower back and lead it between my soaked thighs. I wouldn’t expect her to fully engage now. But as much as she used my ass to her pleasure, I could use her fingers, subtly navigating their moves.

“Max. Max, talk to me,” I heard myself hardly able to catch a breath. “Tell me how close you are. Wait for me.”

She quickly understood what fuelled my intentions and slowed down a bit. “I… I can’t hold it much longer.” She whimpered, letting her pelvis rise a bit, to avoid intense friction.

Oh, I didn’t need much. My fingers orchestrated a great play between my legs together with hers in my possession. In no time my own savage moans and body arching translated the same way. Max got the message and synced her moves with mine. She joined the wild ride, again harder this time. “I am… close. Vic… I’m… I’m coming.”

And so was I. Max collapsed next to me. And my world collapsed and was reborn into a new one. The orgasmic one.

* * *

“This is heaven.” Said Max while stuffing her mouth with another grape and some cheese. “Here, babe, you need the last asiago and walnut.” And did the same for me.

“See, there are other things except for waffles and bacon that can get you over the moon, freckles.” My thumb brushed away a small piece of peel that got stuck in the corner of her mouth. She smiled and it was the shy adorable smile of hers, again. A bit diffident. Yeah, that beast who had ravished me for the last couple of hours had been worn out for now.

“I know. The Gruyere cheese and Victoria Chase, for example.” Max leant over the empty plate in my lap to peck my lips softly and sunk back into bed. It was incredible how one moment she could be the force unleashed and the other it was like that part of her never existed.

I put aside the plate and spooned her while pulling the blanket to cover our intertwined bodies. She cuddled deeper into my arms like she always belonged there.

“So, when did you broadened your horizons with food and become an expert on the names of cheese?” I asked a bit curious, but mostly because I didn’t wish to fall asleep, just yet. The last orgasm energized me enough to have another small pillow talk.

“Tonight, actually. Zach helped when he saw me struggling. I met him in the kitchen. He said he was just leaving because Kris already fell asleep. But stopped by because _I can’t allow you to maim this poor cheese_ _._ He laughed at me. But he was kind of right.”

Well, Zach leaving our flat at 1 am after hooking up with Kris, that image was slightly disturbing, for sure. But when I realised Max only wore my knee-length t-shirt and nothing more when she encountered him. Oh my, pure horror crawled under my skin.

“Zach? You spoke with Zach without your undies?”

“Uh-huh.” Max just chuckled. “He had no idea. Can’t wait to tease him about it.”

Her playfulness calmed me enough to ponder about Zach’s situation. Today he had told me everything had already been settled and tomorrow he was going to press charges against his father. I promised to lend him a hand every time he would need it. But he seemed pretty cool about everything.

“So, do you think he’s handling the whole thing, well?”

“He’s more than meets the eye.” Max assured me. “Besides, he has us and N— …his cousin. The cousin…” She stuttered, probably just not being sure about the name.

“Yeah, he told me all about Nyssa, she must be great. Anyway, do you think he and Kris are dating now?”

“Nope.” Max rushed with her answer. And I could swear her body tensed up. Or was I imagining it? Why would she be jittery about Zach’s involvement with Kris? “It’s just sex. A release. No consequences, no string attached. Kris is in love with Drew.” She concluded.

“I don’t believe there is such a thing as just sex. Emotions are always going to be involved whether one likes it or not. And Drew’s anger on Friday tears down the no consequences theory, as well.” Maybe I should’ve just dropped the topic, it didn’t concern us. But Max’s silence just bred my curiosity. “I don’t think I could just sleep with someone, just for release.” Yeah, the Steph situation had proved I always get emotionally involved. “Could, you?”

It was an utterly imbecile question. How could I ask? I had no clue. Because I fucking didn’t want to know. Still extensively tense Max turned in my embrace to face me.

“I did, okay. I did it. In the past.” Her apologetic voice ripped right through my heart. What in the hell had I just started? This was a perfect night, and it shouldn’t be ruined by some stories about Max’s one-night stands of the past. “It was... I…”

“Stop. Stop, stop, stop, stop.” I tried to save the mood and kill the lurking doubts. “I should not bring it up. Let’s just not talk about it now.” I brought our lips together and finally sensed the tension was fading. “Let us just be. Live in this moment.”

I prompted Max to lay on my shoulder and let my arm scoot around her waist. And erased the last three minutes from my mind.

“There is no one else, Victoria. I would never.” She muttered after a moment. “I don’t want anyone else to be this close to me, ever. Just you.”

We might have different opinions about _just sex_ , but I agreed with her completely about other people being this close to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, before I thank my two great helpers (guys you're freaking best), I would like to make a confession. I hate writing smut.   
>  It’s f**king difficult. There are not unlimited ways how to describe, you know…
> 
>   
>  I mean I enjoy the result when it’s finished, and I reread it for the one last time before publishing. Oh my, that tingling sensation of what I have written. Only few things according to my writing can be compared to that. As a reader I suppose I like the romance the most. (Yeah, I’m a sap, but you probably already figured that out). And at least for me the good sex scene can elevate every romantic story. But such scene needs to be perfectly balanced.   
>  Not too pornographic, not too PG 13, not too descriptive, not too short, not too repetitive.
> 
>   
>  There already have been some explicit scenes in this story, but this is Max and Victoria’s first time. You can imagine I didn’t want to do just the quick scene that fades to black.   
>  So, I can only hope it all worked.
> 
> And I would love to thank michaely and tkyash. These guys are top notch and helped to polish this chapter. And oh, boy I bet it wasn’t easy to help with this kind of content. 


	26. Armageddon

**Victoria Chase**

**Thursday, October 8, Year 2, Day 389**

Professor Turing and Warren were discussing the possibility of internet trolls amplifying election fraud. The topic was attention-worthy, but frankly, I was glad the lecture was basically over, and I could focus on another important issue. Max was bent over her notebook, going through her notes. The short summary she had been utilising didn’t contain an evaluation of today’s lecture. She was preparing for a meeting with the Professor. He agreed to give us a moment of his precious time and meet us today. It was of utmost importance we were all set up to discuss the possible illegal alteration of Regional Resident Registry entrance. Stuttering and rambling was absolutely not an option.

I watched her delicious lips mounting words she had jotted down yesterday and must have bite mine to stop them from trembling. Being all greedy to kiss Max’s. The expression on her face never flinched or contorted in anxiety or discomfort. Instead, it was one of overall tranquillity, resembling a peacefully still pond without even so much as a light breeze to send ripples over the surface. The vision of her objective was seemingly clear in her mind. Her focus knew exactly where it should lie, and that gave her the calm she needed to fixate on her goal. She was back in the saddle, I hoped.

Chloe’s case wasn’t the only thing that was giving her a hard time. The second year of the PI program introduced not only capricious Professor Turing. As sophomores, and the official part of the corps now, we were compelled to get in touch with a real duty in the front line. Once we graduated this program, we were not meant to patrol the streets, but it was essential to get to know this part of police work, as well. So, through the second year, we were scheduled to serve one day shift and one night shift per week side by side with our training officers as a part of a patrol. I’ve got fortunate because Leo Snart, my mentor, had this optimistic and chipper attitude. He was spiced with the right portion of sarcasm. I had only known him for a brief time, but it was clear that this man calm and composed rarely ever lost his temper. Intelligence, patience and precision defined him.

Max, on the other hand, had been rewarded with a prize a few would desire. According to Max's words, her training officer Mick Rory was impulsive, unstable, and lacked sophisticated demeanour. Max believed in his eyes she was too delicate to be a police officer. And letting her handle the extreme combative situation by herself was just the confirmation for him, he was right.

Although what I supposed was the worst so far was his lack of empathy. He was a cold piece of rock. During their Sunday’s night shift, Max and Mick had been called to a case where a woman killed her abusive husband. Emily Eriksen.

_He is dead, and she took his life. She ends in jail. It’s pretty simple. Hell, I bet she is gonna do better there than with him. The sooner you learn to not involve your emotions, the better for you. If you are not planning for this job to chew you and spit you out in shambles. The choice is yours._

Mick had said to Max. In a way, he was right. It definitely wasn’t that simple, though Emily had a son, Chris, who was about to lose both parents now. When Max had come back to my apartment on Monday morning, she had been devastated. I couldn’t get a word from her for eternity. And when she had spilt her beans, she needed to take Stilnox to finally fall asleep.

I had supposed to have a coffee date with Zach yesterday evening. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to leave Max. Even when she had kept telling me she was alright. She hadn’t been. Despite the forced sleep, she had still been all worn-out but with an excess of nervous energy. Instead of catching up with Zach, I had played Just Dance with her for most of the evening. She had sucked royally, but I had loved every moment of it. Not only because it had been crazy fun. It had made Max finally relax a bit.

Now she seemed refreshed. Although, I still owned Zach at least a conversation if not a full _date._

“So that’s that about that. See you next week, class.” Professor Turing snuck out of the room, and I turned to my gorgeous girlfriend. 

“Let me have a word with Zach, okay?” I notified Max, even when we had already talked about this. 

“Yeah, babe. No prob. I’m gonna confirm with the Professor that he didn’t forget about our appointment.” She leant closer and kissed my nose. Oh my, she was so sweet. “And then I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

I nodded and let her see Professor Turing while I moved to sit next to Zach, who just finished packing his stuff.

“Have a moment?”

“For you Vicky, always.” He gave me a full-scale grin. Which made me delighted. Last a couple of days must have been hard on him.

“I know, I’m not the best friend right now when… with…” I started apologetically. He was going through the most difficult challenge of his life, the challenge I had pushed him to accept and promised to stand by his side no matter what. Yet, with Max around, it wasn’t an easy task, to sacrifice the time with her to anything else.

“Hey, hey!” He put the finger on my mouth. “I was dreaded what’s gonna happen when I stand up for myself but look at me. Do I give an impression I’m struggling, suffering?” 

“No,” I admitted. Recently, Zach was more relaxed than ever. Which was impressive considering what pressing the charges against his own father catalysed. The First Chief Commissioner had denied everything and had the support of lots of high-ranking officers, even the minister of internal affairs, at first. The future of the investigation had looked bleak initially despite the help of Professor Heywood. He and the Faculty had fully backed Zach. Still, it was one person’s word against another. And of these persons was The First Chief Commissioner. The tension had arisen between the Academy and the head of the corps.

Before an asunder could throw the police forces into chaos, the tables had turned. Encouraged by Zach’s actions, the silence of victims had been breached. Through years, those who had been abused by psychopathic commanding officer Henrik V. Riggins had finally stepped up. The rumour had it, his days with the corps were already numbered. It wasn’t one voice against him, now but many. And every other that spoke brought more at the end of the day.

Although it was possible, he was about to make some kind of deal and step down willingly. The situation was so dire he would probably accept being stripped of all honours to avoid further investigation and discretisation. So, no rent, or other advantages of being a retired police officer. And of course, the minister will agree with this resolution. No one would want to start mayhem that tabloids could bring to this. Not even Zach. It wasn’t ideal. But mobbing wasn’t a crime per se. Every scenario where The First Chief Commissioner was gone was still better then he abusing his subordinates daily. His legacy had to be erased but not at the cost of destroying the credibility of the corps. He and his goons didn’t represent us. People like Professor Heywood or Zach’s cousin Nyssa did.

“See,” Zach smiled, “those, who matters stand by me and those who don’t, they can fuck off,” and explained how most of his family shunned him. Still, his cousin Nyssa’s been generous and supportive, allowing him to live with her. He also mentioned a lot of support from our group and even police officers he had never met. Of course, some dared to mock him, even send anonymous threats. But according to his words, the support system he had built here at Academy was stronger than any threat. "And it all started with you, only you. You have my thanks."

It was amazing to hear it. I couldn't be restrained from squeezing him in my arms. “I love you, fuckboy, you know that, right?” I murmured to his ear, choosing the nickname I had given him the first day we had met. Absolutely undeservedly. 

“I love you, too Ice queen.” He laughed. “But rather stop the snuggling. Someone could spread the rumour we had a secret affair, and it will leave your little kitty's heart broken.”

“She’s not a kitty, Zach.” I released the hug and punched his shoulder lightly. “Max is a beast.”

“You mean in bed?” He teased.

“My lips are sealed. For now. And forever.” I stood up from the desk and shoved him off playfully with a wave of my hand. “Although…” a devilish smile crept along my face, “If only the walls in Kristine’s room could speak, I imagine there’d be all manners of stories to be told.” I raised my eyebrows in mischief.

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” he retorted.

“Right, but what does that have to do with you?”

“Ha ha,” he laughed dryly.

“And you two kiss?” I asked in faux-disbelief. “I figured you two would mate by her laying her eggs inside your abdomen.”

I laughed wholeheartedly. But then I stopped in my tracks, and the good spirit evaporated in the second. No sign of a smile left on my face, just clenched jaws, clashed together as tight as there was just one. No air could come to my lungs through my mouth, and I barely allowed some through my nose. At the moment I could only recognise two instances. The pulsing vein on my right temple. And at the end of the hall, a dark-haired woman.

This woman, who was stunning by all means, approached Max and kissed her on both cheeks. It could be a friendly kiss, but she didn’t stop with this blatant act of affection. Her body language revealed she was more than acquainted with my girlfriend. This woman didn’t restrain from invading Max’s personal space and from the touches that were too intimate for sharing with someone you didn’t share a bed with. I had been told the detective stuff was strong with me, not once. Well, now I’d prefer they wouldn’t. Max and this woman had slept together, No one would convince me otherwise. The fact Max stepped back, apologetically in no time and didn’t relish in the other woman's closeness was a good consolation as none.

“It’s nothing really, Vicky. They had a fling, but I don't think Nyssa knew, you and Max are back together.”

Nyssa.

Zach’s perfect cousin. I bet he wanted to help and shed light on the whole situation. Yet, the poison called jealousy already had all of me. He had said back together. Had Max and Nyssa been an item in the summer? Had she found a new girl in no time? I glared at him and despite great effort couldn’t stop the rage from seeping. Rationally, I was very much aware he had no obligation to tell me. Neither did Max. Yet, the anger wasn’t fading. My neck muscles were so strained, that part of my body was rendered practically immobile.

“Did I say something wrong? I did, didn’t I? Because your lips just disappeared.” Zach had no idea what was going on in my head, but he was clever enough to realise it was nothing good. “I’m sorry. Maybe talk with Max, she will surely explain.”

“Hey.” Max and Nyssa joined us. Well, fucking great. Despite everything I knew about Zach’s cousin, how amazing she was, at the moment, I only desired to strangle her.

“Hey, girls!” Zach shouted with a nervous high pitch voice.

“I’m Nyssa. Nice to finally meet Zach’s great friend. I wish, though, the circumstances were different.” She offered me her hand, damnit. I could hear the regret in her voice and saw an apology in her eyes. Max had revealed to her we are together, she must have. But tell me, who wouldn’t hate her if in my shoes?

“Victoria.” Tremendous effort was needed to be engaged in order for my jaw to unlock so I could speak. Also, I had to use every ounce of self-control to not act like a jealous psycho and shook Nyssa’s hand without any effort to crush it. 

“We gotta go. See you, guys.” Max probably sensing the possible catastrophe prompted us to leave. Oh, I was eager to walk away, but definitely not all fired up to hold Max's hand. Of course, I wasn’t the first girl Max had been with. She had slept with others, touched them. Yet, the idea she’s touching me with a hand she… _fuck._ It made me aggravated. Despite my reluctance, Max attempted to catch it again. With no success. 

“Did you fuck her?”

“I should have told you.”

We spoke at the same time. Well, fuck. So, Max confirmed what was obvious.

“I wanted to tell you; I was about to tell you. I’m sorry.” She stopped and made another unsuccessful attempt to soothe me with the touch. “It was nothing but a release. I swear.”

“Don’t touch me!” I hissed. But her troubled expression softened my anger for the first time. “Just don't,” I sighed, “Professor Turing’s is waiting,” and dashed towards his office. She followed but kept her distance. When I reached our destination, I was attacked by a sneaky thought, maybe my presence wasn’t welcomed anymore. Zach’s cousin’s Nyssa was a Chief Inspector already. If Max would team up with her, there will be no restrictions. She could initiate the new investigation in no time. There would be no need for these complications.

“I would understand if you don’t feel like coming with me.” Max’s statement only fed my misery.

“You rather have Nyssa by your side, don’t you?” I let the jealousy get the best of me. 

“Victoria,” Max’s first instinct was to touch me again. Still, she retreated probably remembering how she had been dismissed three times, already. “Nyssa is a stranger. We slept together, but that’s it. I’m not gonna share the most important thing in my life with her. Or anyone. Just you.” I had no reason to not believe her, yet I chose to revel in pettiness. 

“Yeah, sure. I’m _so important_ to you that you rather end in the bed with _a stranger_ than keep in touch with me in summer.”

Max opened her mouth, but before she could come up with more ridiculous excuses that would only aggravate me more the door of Professor Turing’s office opened.

“Trouble in paradise, I see.” He gave us a preaching look. Our argument was probably too loud for a normal conversation. “Flowers and exquisite chocolate are always a good start.” He turned to me. I mean it wasn’t a surprise he sensed a fight between lovers. At this point, everyone in the Academy knew we were a couple. But what fucking riled me up was that when something went wrong, the first idea everyone came with was _Victoria surely had caused it._

“It’s not her who messed, but me,” Max explained.

“Then, the same applies to you, miss Caulfield.” He retorted. “Now, chop-chop. I don’t have a whole day for you, lovebirds.” He prompted us to enter. 

“Thank you for seeing us, Professor Turing,” Max said after we all sat down, although no more words followed. Instead of speaking, she put her bag in her lap and started digging through it. The notes she had meticulously put together either weren’t in there, or she couldn’t make herself focus on finding them. Splendid. It was probably all because she was thinking how fucking burden I am to her effort to solve Chloe’s case. Surprisingly, it gave me a nudge to woman up and stop being a pathetic wanker.

“We have a suspicion that the entry in the Regional Resident Register was illegally altered,” I stated firmly, using a pronoun we like a most natural thing. “It could be a glitch, but we believe it’s an effort to cover a crime.” I looked at Max, trying to suppress an animosity that was between us at the moment. She nodded.

“We,” she established putting the bag down giving up on the notes, “considered a few different approaches to figure out who made the alterations, although, your opinion in this matter would be most welcomed.”

“Go on.”

Max gave an accurate description of the whole situation; I would say a perfect one. It wasn’t too tedious nor too stumpy. It must provide Professor Turing everything he needed to know. I was crazy mad with her, yet it didn’t make me admire Max any less.

“Interesting.” Professor Turing hummed, and for a moment, his laptop consumed all his focus. “Whoever coded that database was an amateur. This is why our cybersecurity sucks.” His fingers were flying around the keyboard with a rocket speed. “The ministry and its procurement are a joke.” He turned the laptop to us, eventually. “If you’re going to use the algorithm, I taught you today, you’ll find out who was behind it. See,” he pointed to the screen. “Piece of cake. I could breach the firewall in a second from here, even.”

“You could,” Max burst lively, with no sign there had been a messy situation going on just a couple of minutes before. “Do it then!”

“I could, but it would be illegal.” He shut down her enthusiasm and turned the laptop back to his side.

“But…” I felt her frustration. The issue with Registry could be solved right away. And we would know what Eliot's new identity is. Professor Turing stayed adamant, though.

“Why have you come here, Ms Caulfield? To the Academy? To break the law?” I was staring at her and what I saw was the beast fighting to be released from the cage. I’d swear for the moment I believed she wasn’t going to tame it. The moment when my hand unconsciously reached for hers.

“No.” She rasped through the gritted teeth.

“Don’t break it then. Serve and protect! Make an official request to investigate this discrepancy and make me proud. Find those who’re responsible by using the algorithm I’ve just taught you.” It did make sense. We were police officers. On the other hand, though, Eliot had broken the law many times and got away with it. Professor’s Turing _illegal hacking the database_ would take two minutes. Two freaking minutes. It wouldn’t hurt anyone and spare us a couple of days and lots of effort to be closer to the criminal. That was a pretty sour grape if you asked me. “Dismissed. I have a lot to do.” He ordered when we showed no will to leave. 

“Thank you, Professor Turing,” I spoke probably just on my behalf because Max looked anything but thankful when we were getting out of his office. She rushed along the empty hall, shaking her head in disbelief. I remembered the first time when I had seen her temper. In Vortex when Hayden had approached us. We had been a bit tipsy, yet it had felt unreal. She had told me back then she would prefer I never see her in Hulk mode. I had believed she had been joking. Now I understood she was immensely powerful. Capable of tremendous things. Yet, there was still a lot that not only I but more importantly, Max didn’t know about herself. Especially according to her emotions that had been imprisoned for so long.

Before her temper could explode, I made a couple of quick steps and reached her just in time to seize her wrist. She planned to hit the wall, oh she did. Instead, she was overpowered by me and pinned to it.

“Easy, easy, love.” I breathed. It was all in her eyes, that calming down wasn’t the course of action she desired to take. My own anger still didn’t fade away. But another feeling was intervening, and I suspected the same correlation was happening inside her. And it had everything to do with our bodies pressed together. The lust was dwelling in me but succumbing to it wouldn’t gonna solve any of our issues. Besides, we were in a public place. So, I slowly stepped away and ceased any contact. For a long moment, we were just looking at each other. When it was obvious none of us was ready to talk, we both turned and headed towards the staircase. 

“Maybe Nyssa could help.” I didn’t even know why I suggested that. Because it was the last thing I desired. Also, the tone of my voice wasn’t exactly dedicated, somewhat reproachful, instead. But obviously, part of me still would do anything to erase Max's misery. My words set things in motion. Not the way I imagined. Now it was me who ended pinned to the wall. Her rage was rising, and I was the sole target, now, not Professor Turing.

“Why being a prick, Victoria? Why are you being a prick?” She grasped my perfectly ironed shirt, and the anger was radiating from every ounce of her body. The anger that I, for many peculiar reasons, I desired to feed. “Would you fucking let that Nyssa nonsense be? Would you?!”

“I would,” I snapped, the greed and the fury overpowering me, “if you wouldn’t fuck her, perhaps. And forget to mention it.”

That was all Max needed to be thrown over the edge. Her hold of my shirt was released a bit when she leant over my shoulder and checked the sheet on the wall behind me. But when it intensified again, I knew it could only mean the classroom on my right was empty. She drove me in and kicked the door close. In a second, I was pushed against them aggressively, and her mouth was on mine. Even if her manner wasn’t forceful, I wouldn’t resist. I was crying out for her to take me.

“Does this...does…” She was catching a breath in between urgent kisses. “...does it look like I’m yearning for someone else?” She inquired and bit my lower lips possessively. It hurt. And at the same time, it flaunted a nonpareil wave of arousal through my body. 

We had been physical practically from the very beginning. Hell, when we had had our first real conversation, we had held hands after a minute. Max’s presence always swelled my desire. Sometimes it was a need for sweet cuddles, another time for wild lovemaking. But this… what was happening right now, it was the whole another level of fierceness. And I loved it. I absolutely adored the idea Max became a beast just because of me. The beast who’s gonna devour me.

“I—I don’t know…” I gasped for air, feeling her teeth on my neck. “Maybe— maybe if you’re gonna fucking finish what you’ve started...instead...instead of talking.” I provoked her. She ceased her effort and just stared at me; her eyes darker than ever. The only physical connection we still maintained was her hands squeezing my shirt. Until she ripped it open. I had only a little idea of what was going on with me after that. But I knew it was matchless. Beyond compare to anything I had ever experienced before. Max’s lips were everywhere. I felt her touches all around my body, and yet, she managed to focus on sliding her fingers inside my pants. The moment she reached my drenched pussy, I couldn’t hold it together anymore. But instead of a heavy scream, only a muffled moan escaped my mouth. Because the palm of her other hand was pressed on it, I realised. Max was in total control of what was happening to me. And I would not want it any other way. 

The moment I climaxed came out as the sweetest insanity. If Max did not support me, I’d go down immediately, run over by the wave of bliss only she could cause. But her caring arms helped to soften the impact. When we slid down to the floor, she gave me time to steady my breathing and then she took care of my shirt. She fastened the jacket of my uniform, so no one could recognise my shirt was destroyed. When all was settled, she softly pressed her lips on mine. This connection was nothing like what we had done, not a long before.

“Come,” she prompted me to step up, “we should not linger. The next class in here starts in a few minutes.”

Max led me out of the classroom, and out of the Academy, holding my hand the whole time. Overlooking the fact, it was delightful, I must admit it was probably also necessary. Because I was still in a daze, weak on my knees and totally lost without her guidance. When we were out on the green in front of the Academy, I saw clearly, again. I pulled Max’s hand softly, regretting all the pettiness. We stopped. And looking into Max's beautiful eyes, I knew it didn’t matter what happened between her and Nyssa.

“I love you.” I intended to say, but it was Max, actually who spoke first.

“I love you, too, freckles.”

“I know,” she responded with a smirk, “because I’m amazing,” and started walking again. 

“Pretty, skilful, yeah I admit,” I teased, “with your fingers and tongue.” “But can those prepare a perfect meal of your choice?”

“No,” she confessed, at once, “but that’s why I have you, babe,” keeping her unusually smug attitude.

“So, what’s your choice for today?” I inquired, thinking about cooking her some great dinner. It was the least I could do as an apology for acting like a jealous freak.

“Well,” her forehead wrinkled, suggesting she was doing some intense thinking. “Something greasy and naughty, a signature junk food.” She demanded.

“No, prob, love. Pineapple pizza, there will be.” I joked.

“What? No! That’s not naughty, that’s revolting!” Her desperate scream was dampened by the incoming tram.

“Easy, freckles. No pineapple for you.” I pulled her closer to shield her from the people getting out of the wagon. “What about a burger with lots of bacon, onion rings and coleslaw.”

“Sounds, amazing.” Max gushed when we hopped in.

* * *

“You’re by no means obligated to this,” I reassured Kris that I hadn’t asked her to join our dinner because I wanted her to do the dishes after.

“Oh, dear, oh dear, of course, I am.” She stole a dishrag from me. “You cooked. Hell, you’re always cooking. Without you, I would be sentenced to have a bowl of cereal or a disgusting microwave meal for dinner every day.” She moaned. Frankly, it was true. “And so, would she.” Kris pointed to the couch occupied by Max glued to her laptop.

“Well, maybe we could engage her with dishes every now and then, too.” I laughed. Max hated doing dishes. That’s why she didn’t cook. I guess it was one of the few things they had in common with my always vivacious flatmate.

“That would be a waste of her time.” Kris put the dishrag down and tucked a stray of hair behind my ear. “The time she, by all means, should spend with you.”

“Kris…” I started without thinking about my contribution through, first. There was this thing with Zach. I wasn’t the _just sex_ person, quite the opposite. But it seemed it was precisely what was going on between them. Even when Kristine had been trying to drop the hints, feelings were also involved. Probably to stop me from bugging her about Drew. Because yes Kristine was still very much in love with him. Who, to his mother's pleasure, was dating a girl of Suriname descent. I had seen them together a couple of times when this girlfriend had been waiting for him after school. Drew indeed cared about her and respected her but there was no spark in there. I glanced at Max, thinking about how I had been eager to let her go because I had believed we are not destined to be together. Had she not fought for me, we wouldn’t be here.

“It’s alright, Vic. I’m alright.” Said Kristine probably thinking I’m royally stupid and blind also. 

“You should fight for him.” I gently wiped a tear that was about to fall down her cheek. 

“Nuts as always.” She sneered. “He’s a man. Women are not fighting for men’s attention.”

“‘And so, I thought, you’re all in for equality.” I tried to trick her.

“I am.” Kris sighed. “But this is different. Besides, he made a decision with the other girl.”

“Hey, wake up dummy.” I softly knocked on her skull, to bring some sense into her. “It’s not different. And I believed he didn’t make any decision. Just went with a flow because you let him.”

“I--” She very much wanted to oppose me; I could tell. But something clicked in her brain, and it caused a moment of clarity. “I hate you. I mean, I love you, but I hate you. It's supposed to be me who’s clever from the two of us. You’re the good looking one.”

I pulled her into the hug, “You’re clever when your head is not up to your ass,” and kissed her temple. I sensed her shaking her head, but she kept her pearls of wisdom to herself for this time. “When you’re done with the dishes come watch a movie with us. What about Armageddon?” I suggested.

“You hate it.” She stepped out of the hug. And yeah, she was absolutely right. That movie was the purest shit but...

“But you love it. And I promise we won’t cuddle at all. Actually, I am borrowing you, Max, for cuddles every time Ben Affleck has a scene with Liv Tyler. Deal?”

“K. But maybe let Max lend you for the purpose of cuddling. I have a feeling she is not all fired up into snuggling with me. I don’t have this top-notch pixie haircut she loves so much.” Kris joked and turned to the sink.

Happy with a thought she chose a company instead of misery, I headed to Max.

“I have bad news and good news, which one do you want to hear first, freckles?” I joined her on the couch.

“The bad one,” Max placed a soft kiss on my cheek, her eyes still lingered on the screen, though.

“We’re watching Armageddon tonight. No cuddles allowed.” I informed her.

“Oh, Gawd. I could exped the worst punishment. But fine, okay. If it’s for a noble purpose, so be it.” She groaned, accepting her fate. “What’s a good one?”

“I offered Kris the one-night stand with me to cheer her up, and she agreed. So, it will make us even according to your encounter with Nyssa.” I spoke with all seriousness. 

“What! As watching Armaggedon wouldn’t be enough?” Max almost dropped the laptop.

“Easy, love.” I chortled and took her hand. “I was making fun. It was a joke.” She rolled her eyes, looking anything but amused. Watching Armageddon was terrible enough, obviously. Yeah, I shouldn’t tease her about Nyssa. “Actually, I think I should apologise for today, for--”

“Until you’re not planning to have a one-night stand with Kris, there’s nothing to apologise.” Max declared. “I should tell you. I’m gonna tell you whatever you wish to know.”

To be honest, I didn’t desire to know anything about Max’s summer adventure. I’d rather erase it from my mind completely. The knowledge about her involvement with flawless vigilante Nyssa. “I guess the promise you’re not gonna replace me with her it’s all I need.”

“Oh, babe.” Max put down the laptop and pressed our lips together. “You’re not some piece of garderobe that I replace when it’s out of fashion, or I get bored with it. You’re my better half.”

I must chuckle at her fashion comparison. “Max, you're not picking new stuff at all. You just wear them until they completely fall apart.”

“Yeah! See, you’re stuck with me.” She rejoiced but just for a moment. Then her expression became slightly more serious. “Listen, Vic. I have an idea. With or without an official request, we still need a full-time police officer to accompany us to the Regional Resident Registry office in Arcadia. If we strive for findings, we’re gonna achieve to have any validity.”

“Agreed.”

“Maybe you could talk to Leo,” she suggested teaming up with my training officer. “I would talk to Mick, but I'm pretty sure he considers me incompetent.” According to circumstances, I would prefer this cooperation instead of including Nyssa. But there was a catch.

“Well, I could talk to him, but Arcadia is outside our jurisdiction. If it was just another precinct, I’d say okay, but it’s another city in another district.”

“I know, I know. But Leo’s clever. He could come with something, a loophole.” Max pleaded. I was tempted to say yes, but I didn’t want to choose this option for the wrong reason.

“Max, if you’re keeping Nyssa out of this because of me I can assure you I have my jealousy under control.” Well, it wasn’t exactly true. “Or will do anything to achieve that.” I corrected my original statement.

“What about this,” she offered. “We’re gonna try Leo first, and if it doesn’t work, I’ll speak to Nyssa.” I nodded being eternally grateful for Max’s strength, her wits and her decision to be with me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, maybe you noticed little change according to the introduction of the story. Let me explain.
> 
> To be perfectly honest, If I hadn’t written many chapters in advance and also the ending before I started publishing, I would probably drop this story long ago. It took me seven months to release the first chapter after I began working on this. Because it’s the most complex one I’ve ever written, I believe, and I am handling plenty of B plots, as well.
> 
> Unfortunately, in the beginning, it had almost zero response. Close to none. Definitely the worst from all of my stories. After four chapters out, after four weeks, the story had practically no hits, no attention.
> 
> Rationally I knew the fandom is not as wide as it had been before. I was well aware that I am not writing the most popular pairing or trope. But if you ever wrote a fanfiction, you probably know when something like this happens. You doubt if anyone actually reads your story. You’re thinking If going for it is more than you can chew. You are falling for an idea it sucks. And those few kudos must be your cousin who made a fake account only because he feels obliged to support you because you helped him with his theses.
> 
> And even when you write for fun, not for attention, it gets under your skin. Because it’s nice to know there is at least one person who’s in. Because what’s the point to do something you love and enjoy when you cannot share it with anyone?
> 
> I kept going, even when the stats weren’t changing. Because not only once in my life, I was proved that nothing worthy ever comes easy. And then tables turned from all of a sudden. In a day someone commented on all chapters I had already published. JBQ I am looking at you, and I am eternally grateful because you boosted my spirit hugely.
> 
> And then hits rose, more of you dared to write about how you felt about the story. And now I can say even if this is one of my least popular stories according to ratio, I love it the most. And it’s because of the feedback you all left. It’s because you are coming back again and again and even if you don’t leave any feedback, I know you are out there, still reading.
> 
> So as always, I would love to thank you for sticking around, it means a lot. And no matter if you are a writer or not, no matter what you do, I want to tell you never give in. Never, never, never. The good things come to those who are patient.
> 
> And last but not least, I am delighted I also found someone who likes my story that much, he agreed to help to bring my ideas to life and enrich them. So, from this point, I am happy to introduce michaely, talented writer and LiS enthusiast, not only as an opinionated reader but also as a co-author. Welcome officially on the board, michaely.


	27. Good Cop, Bad Cop, Backdrop

**Victoria Chase**

**Friday, October 9, Year 2, Day 390**

“Okay, go pick up Max and meet me here at the station in an hour. I’ll take care of paperwork in the meantime.”

“I know it's an unusual request, but—” Wait. Did Leo just agree with everything I’d suggested without a single complaint? I had multiple speeches prepared to convince him, but it seemed I wasn’t going to have to use any of them. “You’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, I am. I mean, as you said, it’s unusual. Also, I’m going to need a lot of creativity to explain why we’re driving 200 kilometres to Arcadia when we are supposed to be patrolling Hauge's streets. Although being your training officer doesn’t designate me to make all the decisions. You’ve shown an interest in a possible criminal offence and a will to solve it. I praise that.”

“I-I..” I had no words to thank him properly.

“Go pick up Max and meet me here in an hour at the latest. We need to get everything settled until our shift is over.”

“Yes, sir!” I saluted happily and marched down to the underground garage. It was a challenge to focus on driving when the only thing I could think about was how Max would be thrilled to bits. My mind needed to stay sharp, though. It would be insane to ruin this opportunity by running over some unconcerned pedestrian.

When I finally arrived in front of dorms, I pulled the car in, not thinking much about the No Parking sign. I mean, I wasn’t gonna fine myself, was I? I dashed into the building right towards Max’s doors.

“He agreed,” I shouted immediately when she opened, not bothering with an introduction.

“He did?” Max beamed.

“Yeah, grab your gear and come!”

“My—my gear? You mean I should put on a uniform?” She was happy—oh she was—but also perplexed. It appeared she hadn’t had much faith that this plan was gonna work.

“I don’t know,” I wavered but only for a moment. “Yes, put it on. This is your case. Police officers are always on duty.” I encouraged her eventually.

“Holy shit, totally.” She dragged me in, and as a reward for the good news I brought, I was honoured with a short-lived but passionate kiss. 

* * *

**Max Caulfield**

**Friday, October 9, Year 2, Day 390**

I’d been over the moon when Victoria had shown up at my doors with the news that Leo had agreed to help us. It hadn’t taken long until I was left down in the dumps instead. When we arrived at the precinct, I’d figured out I wouldn't be the only added member of the crew for this road trip. Mick Rory, my training officer and probably the second biggest sceptic about my career in the corps (after my mum) had also joined us.

_What kitty, did you expect me to miss this opportunity to see you swim? Or sink._

He had made fun of me. I had seen Victoria ready to give him a hard time about it, but it would be a disaster. For our investigation and for my ego, also. Fortunately, one thoughtful look of mine had been enough to stop her, and she had understood quickly that the intervention neither had been needed nor wanted. I didn’t hold it against her, not at all. I mean, if the situation had been reversed, I would be keen to intervene. I felt fortunate that both of us had an innate understanding of one another, enough to realise the distinction between appreciated support and trifling interference.

Now, in the car, I glanced at Victoria, who had been chosen to drive us to Arcadia. Unexpectedly, I had been granted a passenger seat. Leo, Victoria’s training officer, had said this was our case and they were nothing but idle observers. I was thankful he allowed me to join. Although why Mick would desire to participate was beyond me. Technically, this was Victoria’s and Leo’s patrol. And he didn’t even wear a uniform, just jeans and black hoodie. He resembled a back alley goon right now, more than a police officer. Well, except for that Rebecca Silver novel, he had been reading during the whole drive. The smut story jibed with neither the image of a badass cop nor that of a rowdy criminal. 

While Mick and Leo were engaged in conversation about the trash literature in the back, I wondered what Victoria was thinking. Maybe she was mad that I hadn’t let her stand up for me. Or she regretted she had even thought about it, undermining my ability to deal with the situation. Or maybe she was just focused on driving. As usual, the solution to the puzzle was predicated on my being bold enough to simply reach out. I took hold of her pristinely manicured hand, nails diligently trimmed just so and painted a jubilant shade of ruby, resting daintily on her thigh. She interlaced our fingers instantly, which I loved greatly, I must admit.

“Lovebirds are going to kill us titanic style, splendid,” Mick boomed from behind. “Would you kindly focus on driving, Chase?”

Before I thought about it, I freed my hand, raised it and created an obscene gesture. It would be an amazing feeling as a solo action. But realising Victoria mimicked my move made it superb. I met her eyes in the rearview mirror, and we both chuckled subtly.

“See, I’ve finally taught her how to have some balls,” Mick said to no one in particular, obviously satisfied with himself. Maybe there was a method to his madness, after all. 

My hand sunk and revived the connection with Victoria’s, who was eager to stroke the back of it tenderly. Sometimes I still found it almost unbelievable how everything had turned out. I hadn’t come to the Academy to make friends, let alone to seek romance. I had come as a loner trying to find a purpose in life. I had hoped aiming for revenge would give me enough strength to stop being a lost little kitty. Back in the day, I had seen two options of how my journey could end up. It could break me, or I could become a self-proclaimed lonesome avenger. The first outcome would be sad, the second would be replacing one insanity with another, becoming a mindless hunter. Nevertheless, I hadn’t cared what outcome it would be. The thought that I’d be doing something instead of living in the void had been enough for me.

But then Victoria Chase had entered, and mere existence turned to life, to something real. I wasn’t just, walking, talking, breathing. I lived again. Or for the first time, ever. 

_I love you,_ I intended to say, not giving a fuck if Mick was gonna make fun of that, but she spoke first.

“I’m sorry, I… I shouldn’t...you’re a freaking ninja. You don’t need my—” 

“Stop. Please stop.” I squeezed her hand in mine. It was clear she was talking about the Mick situation from before. “I know you meant well. I just… I can’t tell him to sod off. I have to be smarter than falling for his provocations.” I talked plainly and without reservation, as if our training officers weren’t in the back. But so what? Yeah, there was a drill and chain of command and stuff, but fuck it. We were people, not disposable material. 

“If you’d have told that guy to sod off, kitty, maybe he would stop treating you like a sissy,” Mick suggested. I turned to him, trying to find out if he was fucking with me again. But I couldn’t tell. His nose was stuck in Rebecca Silver’s smutty novel. 

“Or he could hold it against me, as a superior officer, and make my life hell.” I ventured him to show his cards.

“You’ll never know until you try, won’t you? He clapped the book. “Anyway, we are almost in Arcadia. I checked the area, and there is a perfect diner close to the Regional Resident Register office. Drop us there, so we can have a snack until you do whatever Nancy Drew things you are planning to do.”

“Mick, they shouldn’t go there unsupervised.” Leo wasn’t all fired up about the idea, but Mick explained he saw no reason to accompany us. Mostly because he was hungry and also because we can finally prove we’re not some useless lovebirds but decent cops. To Leo’s objection that as the officers in training, we are not authorised to operate without supervision, Mick just brushed it off. He said they’re not sending us to a drug cartel shootout, but rather to ask an old lady at the front desk three questions. 

“Besides, you can always write in the report that you were there asking those questions,” Mick concluded.

After a short reflection, Leo agreed, and Victoria was instructed to drive us to the diner Mick desired to visit. I didn’t fancy the idea at all. Not because we were going to RRR without our training officers. But because the diner, Two Whales inn, was my mum’s favourite place for lunch. 

“Find us here, when you’re done with playing Nancy Drew,” Mick shouted, lunging towards the diner. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Alright, Chase?” Leo said to both of us with all seriousness.

“You’re saying I can seduce my partner, then?” Victoria joked.

“The last time I checked you’ve already seduced her.” He laughed and turned to the diner, ready to follow a starving Mick.

“She seduced me,” Victoria retorted, but he only waved us goodbye. “Well, shall we go?” She turned to me and looked across the street where RRR offices were located. I just nodded looking around cautiously if there was any sign of Vanessa Caulfield. 

Mum worked as a garden architect. After hard work creating a perfect look for other people’s gardens, she loved to stop here for a greasy lunch. Just once in a while, though. Junk food was her guilty pleasure, still extremely unhealthy in her eyes. I checked the armband. It was 10:12, well I could only hope all will go smoothly, and we’ll be gone before lunch. _Oh, who I was kidding. Nothing ever went smoothly in this case. There was always a catch._ But if I was lucky, mum wouldn’t get in the way. 

“What’s up, freckles? You look pale.” Victoria noticed a disturbance in my attitude. “Wanna catch a breath before we go in?”

“No, no, no. It’s fine.” Actually, I was dying to be inside, not on the street. 

“But something’s not right, and I wouldn’t mind hearing about it if you feel like talking.”

I sighed but spilt the beans, eventually. Why shouldn't I? It was Victoria here with me, after all. I explained the possibility we could encounter my mum, which wasn’t anything horrendous. Her hysterical outburst, on the other hand, that was a whole different thing. Especially if it would happen in the diner full of people. And in front of my training officer Mick Rory. Someone who thought I was a pussy. Adding my overprotective mum around, crying here about how I was fragile and delicate and not suitable for police work would be just a cherry on the top for him. Victoria listened to me, made no fuss about it and in the end squeezed my hand and told me we’re gonna deal with it when it happens.

“But first, let’s deal with what is vital for now.” She said, and we walked into the RRR office. 

Without any further verbal interaction about it, she prompted me to lead. Technically I was off duty today when she wasn’t, but I was thankful she let me do this. The clerk at the front desk wasn’t as old as Mick had assumed, quite the opposite. It was a young woman, our age, named Samantha. I clarified that we discovered an anomaly in the National Resident Registry and we came to check on it. She was immediately terrified and almost started to weep in worry about her job. Victoria came to help and reassured her it could be a glitch, but we need to check the system. We split right after. I didn’t like the idea, especially because clerk Samantha enjoyed Victoria’s attention a little bit too much, but this wasn’t any sappy romance novel. This was an investigation, so there was no time for petty emotions. 

So while I logged into the RRR database in the back office, Victoria and Samantha had a chat near the coffee machine. Good thing I didn’t hear them. I would be tempted to cease the clerk’s giggling in not the nicest way. I used every skill professor Turing had taught us and figured out Eliot’s new identity. That was where the feed of the good news ended. Because the database's entry said, _the new Eliot,_ called R.J. McReady died on October 11th 2013. Almost a year before the file was amended. So it was utmost bullshit. Eliot wasn’t dead, yet technically he was. A dead man has no address, which meant no information about Eliot’s whereabouts. I didn’t even feel disappointed anymore. Why it would be easy if it could be hardcore difficult? So instead of being bitter, I went on and discovered the entry itself had been changed 24 hours after it was validated. The system administrator was behind the alteration. So my best bet was to find out who had been this system administrator back then. 

Somehow I doubted Sam the clerk would satisfy this inquiry of mine. I was tempted to check the personnel files of RRR. Exactly as Professor Turing had said, this system was utter shit, even I could hack it. But those files were confidential, under the GDPR. And I would break the law if I did that. Which no one would ever have a chance to find out. I would have the name of the person who helped Eliot, right away. The name I would obtain anyway but with a couple of unnecessary steps. 

“Fuck. Fuck it!” I logged out of the database and headed towards an unpleasant encounter. 

I found Sam, the clerk and Victoria having a lively chat. The moment she spotted me, she bit her lower lip in anxiety, as if taking extreme precaution to make sure the wrong words couldn’t ever escape from her mouth. I swallowed my pride, fully realising she’s doing all this for me and takes no pleasure in being flirty.

“It would be most beneficial for us if we could know who the system administrator was in 2014. To be more precise, in July.” I spoke with the most composed voice I could manage. 

A bit borderline clerk almost reached the hysteria phase again, because she hadn’t been here in 2014, so she had no idea. Victoria, my freaking awesome girlfriend, used her insane charisma one more time and convinced the clerk it was no trouble. But surely there had to be a way to figure it out. After she calmed down, Sam spoke with another coworker about the issue. The thing was… Well, you can guess. Complicated. In 2014 RRR had been outsourcing IT services. So it was impossible to identify the administrator. It hadn’t been a core employer of the RRR office. Only the IT company knew which technician had been working that day when the entry had been altered. 

On our way out of the building, Victoria tried to apologise for Sam, the clerk situation, and I shushed her right away. Gawd, why did she have to be so perfect? 

I didn’t muster enough strength to enter the Two Whales diner if by any chance my mum would be there, I just preferred to call Mick once we reached the car. I reassured him he had enough time to eat many more diabetes catalysts because our investigation presented an unexpected twist. He “praised” our incompetence, and I also heard Leo shouting that we should not kill anyone. Victoria heard that too and chuckled the same as I did. Then I smacked her lips and felt her smiling into the kiss. It was such a relief. She understood. We understood each other working in a perfect fusion. I had no freaking clue how she kept doing that, but I loved her more and more every day.

Because Arcadia was my hometown, we switched roles when we hopped in the patrol car, and I was the new designated driver. ProSystems, the company that had provided IT services for RRR in 2014, was located on the other side of Arcadia. The traffic was becoming thick again. It set us back, but on the contrary, enough time was provided for Victoria to do some research. She performed customary due diligence on the company and informed me of what she had found. 

“ _ProSystems is a leading supplier of information technologies and systems in the Netherlands_.” She recited the information from their webpage. “ _Our solutions are in the line of customers’ requirements so they can choose services that meet their strategic objectives. Arcadia branch currently employs 31 specialists._ Well, I suppose they wouldn’t want an employee who fucks up with state databases, would they?” Victoria concluded.

“Are you proposing a bad cop, good cop routine? Oh, how naughty of you.” Technically ProSystems had no obligation to tell us who had been assigned to the job back then. We didn’t have a warrant. We had proven the database was altered, which was a minor offence and would eventually grant us a warrant. Still, the whole process would take another day or even more, another drive in here and another unwanted opportunity to meet my mum. And I wasn’t about to allow that. 

“Only if I’m the good one.” Victoria smiled. “Do you think it’s Eliot? He was the administrator who altered his own entry?”

Gosh, it would be so amazing if we found him there. But because of my further observations locating him in the ProSystem office didn’t seem like a vital option. “No. Eliot had never been a tech type. And he hasn’t set foot in Arcadia for years. But he used someone to cover his existence, and we’re gonna find out who. Did that clerk tell you anything useful, by the way?”

“Only if you consider what her cat’s favourite snack is as useful. She moved here three years ago and had no clue about Eliot or about Chloe’s murder. I’m sorry, love. I tried but—”

“It’s cool, Vic, I know you did.” I pulled the car in because we reached our destination. “Come, good cop. We’re gonna do some badass work.”

To my surprise, at least something went without trouble. The branch director immediately spoke with us when I informed his assistant that one of the ProSystem employees altered RRR databases. Director was sure only one person could do that, and he wasn’t working for them anymore. So there was no need for a good cop, bad cop. He gave us all the information we needed, the address included. As I drove us there, Victoria did some research again. Skip Matthews, our guy, was a freelance programmer and aspiring musician according to his social networks. 

“Freelance programmer, more like a lazy wanker if you ask me. There are a lot of unpaid fines and social insurance arrears on his behalf.” Victoria summed her discoveries.

“So no good cop, bad cop this time. Just two angry law enforcers?” I suggested, she nodded. The neighbourhood where this Skip Matthews, an aspiring musician, lived was Arcadia's worst. Well no open gang wars on the street, or such, we were in the Netherlands after all. But housing wasn’t anything fancy, and it was kind of remote. After we abandoned the safety of our patrol car, we were rewarded by wary looks. When we reached a four-floor apartment building entrance, I held Victoria back to stop her from ringing Skip Matthew’s bell.

“What about keeping our visit a secret for another moment? It could work to our advantage.” I didn’t need to elaborate, because her eyes brightened and I knew she got what I meant. 

_“Who’s there?”_ A sleepy voice spoke through the speaker.

“Pizza delivery, Sir. From naughty Pizza. Always hot and crunchy.” Victoria said in a seductive voice. 

_“I-I didn’t order any pizza.”_

“Sir, this delivery is already paid. And truly I’m not paid enough to ponder if you ordered it or not. But if you don’t want two pepperonis—”

_“Bring it on then.”_ The door buzzed, and he let us in.

“Careful.” I mouthed, although there was no need. We were on the same wavelength. When we reached the second floor and knocked on Skip Mathews’ door and had no doubt, we were thinking as one. When he opened, the sheer terror of seeing two police officers automatically transformed into a fight or flight instinct. He decided on the flight. I decided to deny him this option. I seized control of his wrist in one quick move, and with a perfectly executed manoeuvre, I made him kneel down. Until I held him incapacitated, Victoria closed the door and slowly walked around us to face him.

“We know what you did,” I started with a low imposing voice. I honestly jumped a bit at how foreign my own voice sounded in my ears. The uncharacteristic sense of menace with which I spoke surely threw everyone else in the room off balance as well. In any case, I could at least recognise the necessity of this transformation, so I settled into an ease with this new presentation of myself.

“...so you better cooperate. We are your best bet,” Victoria continued in the same attitude. 

“I-I, I am sorry,” He whined. “I didn’t intend to steal anything. I mean that attempt to breach the firewall wasn’t successful anyway. I’ll tell you the names. I wasn’t working on my own, I’ll tell you everything, just please let me go.” He was squirming like a schoolgirl who was caught cheating on the test, rambling about some petty phishing crimes.

I released the grip a bit and winked at Victoria. “We have a proposal,” she offered, and I gave Skip a little bit more freedom. 

“Okay, okay, anything you want.”

“Your little stunt will be forgotten if you tell us about Eliot.”

“Eliot, I don’t know anything about Eliot.” I intensified the grip again, but the name didn’t ring a bell. “Please, please stop. I swear I don’t know any Eliot,” he sobbed.

“You altered the RRR database with his entry. Now speak or—” I amplified his agony, and he cracked.

“I did. I did it. I confess. That girl asked for it on a whim,” he cried. The girl? What girl? The guy was a whining mess, so I released him. He crawled to the wall and leant against it, nursing his wrist. 

I stood next to Victoria, and we both crossed our arms across our chests. The collective intensity of our steely glares was undeniably potent enough to pierce whatever flimsy shell he was trying to use as an obscurity for his deepest secrets. Wonder Woman could keep her golden lasso for all I cared. At this point, I could’ve shaken the truth out of anyone.

“Tell us about this girl and don’t you dare to miss anything or she won’t miss the opportunity to make you more talkative again,” Victoria ordered him to take a glance at me.

Skip Matthews really did tell us everything. Most of his knowledge we didn’t need. What was important was that this girl he had met in the bar was all fired up about getting to know him. Or more like getting to know his job. She had challenged him to use his abilities for a prank, like creating a dead person’s register entry. And this person still can use every advantage of the living one. When he was done, she had ghosted him. Another freaking needless obstacle. Because Skip swore that her name was _Scarlett Johansson._ But considering how much of the imbecile this loser was, I didn’t even question his affinity to believe a girl named Scarlett Johansson approached him in the bar.

“I know, I’m not like the guy in fancy clothes and a lot of money I saw her with after. Now he’s even on TV, but I have a good heart. I’m not a corrupted bastard like him.” Oh, Gawd. Said the petty criminal who robs poor people of their money through phishing.

“What guy? Tell us the name.” I commanded.

“Dunno.” Was his first response but meeting my eyes, he resolved to stretch his mental faculties again. “He’s some po—politician. As I said, now he’s on TV a lot. Or attorney, not a politician. He’s a candidate for some high attorney position. I dunno, really. I don’t understand these shits. He had such a posh name. Like Sapphire or Silver or something. Same as that hot actress.”

“Amber, James Amber?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s him. James Amber, some high-ranking attorney prick or whatever he is. I saw her with him a couple of times when he still resided in Arcadia. ProSystem took care of the IT services for the district attorney’s office.” Skip rejoiced in the hope that this information could mean an end to his torture.

“This is your lucky day Skip.” Victoria stepped back. “Now start acting like a good little boy, or bad cops are going to find you.”

He gave us everything he could and frankly I needed some air after this, so we dashed out of his stinky hole Skip called home.

* * *

**Victoria Chase**

**Friday, October 9, Year 2, Day 390**

“If I were a smoker, now would be a good time to have one.” Max leant against the patrol car, her icy blue gaze staring off seemingly interminably into the distance. As close as I felt to her most of the time, there were still these instances when I couldn’t punch through the veil that hung on the horizon, the same veil that she still felt the need to retreat behind from time to time.

“Not that I am terribly in love with the idea of you poisoning your lungs with asbestos and nicotine. But according to circumstances, maybe you deserve one.” Because we had been all fired up about this lead and almost nothing had come from it. “I bet that Skip goon has some. I could go back and push him a little bit more. He would give us his kidney right now, just let me have him alone.”

“Nah, you’re right Vic. Smoking is shit. Besides it belongs to the ’80s. Let’s pick up Leo and Mick, and we can grab some greasy food to go. If I go for poison, I’d rather chose food over nicotine.”

The temptation to seize her wrist and pull her to my embrace hit me with immense impact. This was hardly a success. Max was handling the disappointment well so far. Still, her worn-out voice and wrinkled forehead weren’t exactly the signs of relaxation.

Yet, I made a deal with myself to trust that Max will come for my touch when she feels like it. So, I hopped in the car after her, and for a couple of minutes, we drove in silence.

“We can check _Scarlett Johansson,”_ She did air quotes while our car was waiting for a green light on the crossroads, “but it would be a miracle if we found anything. That girl was obviously making a fool of the Skip guy.” It sounded like Max was ready to accept the defeat according to this lead. It was probably the right decision. It could drain us of our energy, and for what?

“What about James Amber. Maybe this woman wasn’t fully lying, maybe her name is Scarlett or surname Johansson? Maybe Rachel could talk to her father. Skip gave us decent… hmm… not decent but some description, at least.” Only when I spoke, did I realise how stupid it was. Booby blond wasn’t any description, just a wanker’s fantasy. But Max didn’t call out my stupidity.

“It could be something, but I don’t think Rachel would have coffee with her dad chatting about his assistants.” Max pointed. “She’s barely talked with him in the last seven years. And he probably won’t remember anyway. I bet he had many booby blond secretaries.”

“Why hasn’t she—”

“She blames him for Chloe. Rachel was in London when Chloe died. Because her father sent her there for an exchange visit. She believes she could have saved Chloe if she were here. Besides, James Amber had been the D.A. who made the decision to not start the trial.”

Max clarified the dispute between the local chief of police Egon Tiedemann and district attorney James Amber. Rachel’s father had blamed Tiedemann for not bringing enough evidence. Max said that she had blamed them both first when she had started gathering all the clues about the case. At the time when she finally had been slowly waking up from her numbness. But now, after a year in Academy, she understood the D.A. could have very much been tied up. Max admitted James Amber probably wasn’t the best father. Or the most decent human being. Still starting a trial without evidence and then losing it could’ve buried his carrier. So there had been a reason to be cautious.

On the other hand, Egon Tiedemann had been just a couple of days before his retirement. He hadn’t been inclined to risk anything. And neither had he found the will nor the need to bring justice for a girl who had been scum, nothing but filth in his eyes.

Max didn’t need to say it, but talking about him caused her exhaustion to be replaced with ire. She resented the former chief of Arcadia police, Egon Tiedemann, with all her guts.

“He died two years ago. Stroke. I wish he were still alive, though. Because this is not over. And he should see justice.” She pulled the car in front of the diner where we had left Leo and Mick. And I lost the battle of not intervening.

“It’s okay, to not be okay, Max.” I reached for her hand on the gear shift, exploring if my shoulder to cry on was welcomed or not. “It’s okay if this makes you upset.

“Upset? I’m not upset. I’m fucking fuming.” Despite the message, she said it almost calmly. “This is worse than Fox Mulder hunting blurred lights on the horizon. And it didn’t even hit me at full force. I suppose the next couple of days are gonna be gloomy.” She admitted. “And I am sorry for that in advance. But we have to move on from this clue. We are here because being a police officer is not Egon Tiedemann’s legacy or Henrik Riggins’. It’s gonna be ours! And that’s why I have to pick my battles wisely. To channel my energy correctly. Hell, Mick is fucking right about one thing. If I let my emotions to take over me, this job will chew me up right away. This lead is dead for now. But once we find more clues, it must connect somehow. I must be patient. I cannot help Emily Erikssen now, but it doesn’t mean I won’t be able to help her later. I am no closer to Eliot that I was yesterday, but we will find him. And even when I didn’t tell you, yet you were hot as hell dealing with that Skip guy, I definitely think so.” She smiled. It was such a little gesture. But remembering her a year ago when smile had been rarer for her than lack of bugs in Bethesda games on release day, I cherished it greatly.

Yeah, this smile of hers was everything to me. I brought Max into my arms and let our lips do the talking for a moment.

“I love you, freckles. Now let’s pick up our food and our two underused training officers.”

“Gawd. Fine.” Max’s agreed not so eagerly. Leaving the car, I spotted Leo and Mick already getting out of the dinner with two paper bags and two paper cups. Before we met halfway, we clashed with something that could only be called a grand pinnacle, according to this shitty day.

“Maxine Caulfield!” A woman somewhere around her late forties dashed into us. Max instinctively pulled me back.

“Hello, to you, too, mum,” She said, being anything but cheerful about the encounter.

“So now, you’re not even calling me when visiting your hometown. The perks of being a caring mother.” If I hadn’t known this woman was Max’s mum, I’d probably just consider her as salty. Just showing an ordinary mother’s attitude.

I would say this woman in a perfectly fitting green open front solid blazer and pants set was just a typical working professional. The diligent labourer escaping for a piece of indulgence in the form of greasy lunch as a reward for enduring a busy morning in the office. Her fine petite figure was evidence this wasn’t a typical occurrence, though. She wasn’t against giving into base instincts every once in a while, but I would say she liked to have things under control. Judging by her height, it must’ve been nearly impossible to buy pants that fit correctly off the rack. She was too short for that. Still, the ones she wore now fit like a glove. Must have been tailored especially for her. Mrs Caulfield definitely placed special emphasis on her appearance, and admittedly she deserved her props, she was doing a great job. The textured layers, tousled styling and shiny colour of her dark brown silky hair showed she was no stranger to concepts of style. These genes obviously hadn’t transferred to Max.

But while her looks kinda gave you this calming vibe, as one typically experiences while watching something lovely, her piercing blue eyes were far from soothing. It was no secret to me that Max’s relationship with her mother had been becoming more and more strained recently. But how only Max’s choice of career could cause this, that was still a big unknown.

“I’m here on official duty. There’s no time for pleasantries.”

“Oh, I bet these good for nothings can be without you for ten minutes. They serve no purpose other than being the backdrop of crime anyway. So you could join the woman who raised you for a coffee.” Mrs Caulfield tried to grab Max’s hand, giving the rest of us the sour grapes. Max stepped back again, shielding me.

Being crossed with Max, yet still caring about her, that was one thing. But when Mrs Caulfield spoke about us, the police corps, she was plain spiteful. Like we did something to her, personally. I bet Mick and Leo had never met her, and as far as I know, she had no idea who I was.

“Mum.” Max tried to stay civil, but her boiling point was too close. “These people serve and protect, so please don’t call them names.” Max’s mother just shook her head and would’ve probably retry her antics if Max hadn’t warned her. “So now, we are leaving, and if you attempt to stop me, it would be considered as an attack on official authority.”

I had never seen Max being this riled up, yet stone cold at the same moment. Her brow furrowed at an acute angle. Her knuckles drained of colour as she squeezed tight her fists. As her breathing shallowed, her nostrils began to flare. Something was telling me her mother still find it difficult to get used to this kind of uprising from her only daughter. At the moment, I believed she was gonna let us go. I wished she did. Because what came next screwed all of us.

Mrs Caulfield started a storm of shit talk about how the police sucked, did a bit of guilt-tripping according to Max and lost it completely when she attempted to seize Max’s wrist for the third time.

As unbelievable as it sounded, I had no doubt that Max would handcuff her own mother if needed. Fortunately, she was spared of this torture, because Mick, her training officer was quicker. 

“Ma’am, you’re under arrest.” He informed Mrs Caulfield, who was utterly stunned by this action. He dug her into the car with an unexpectedly swift jerk.

“We take care of this.” Said Leo. “I’ll make sure it’s gonna be just a small fine. I know an inspector in here who owes me a favour. We’ll come back. Just give your girl a kiss in the meantime. And then we are heading back to Hauge.” He gave me two paper bags with our food and disappeared in the patrol car, as well.

“Oh, how wonderful. I just let my own mum get arrested. Dad’s gonna hate me.” Max sunk down alongside the diner wall and I was damn sure there was not enough greasy food in this world to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody. As Michaely is fully on the board now, I have not only a skilful writer on my side but the second pair of eyes, and the proofread as well.
> 
> Still, I very much would like to thank tkyash for all of the help he has done. Even when it’s no longer necessary. Tkyash, you did a lot for this story, and I really appreciate it. Thank you! Because of you, I had an opportunity to improve my writing. I’ll never forget that. You have a mark on this story, and I am grateful for that so much. Thanks again! 
> 
> And of course, as always, thank you, guys, for reading.We (me and michealy) are both so happy to make this story come to life. Which is only because of you, who are sticking around. Even when things are not all always rainbows and unicorns for Max and Victoria. Much obliged. 😊


	28. I, Mother

**Victoria Chase**

**Saturday, October 17, Year 2, Day 397**

"Oh, sweet Jesus." I sat down atop the washing machine after pacing around a bathroom had finally drained me enough. "How in the hell this could happen?" I sighed heavily, not really seeking an answer. I actually already knew.

"Vic, Vicky." Kris put her hands on my tensed shoulders, and when I finally let them relax a bit, she made me look up. "You can very much go through that door and forget about the last hour." An hour. So, we have already been in here for a whole hour.

"Forget about…" I jumped down, ready to hop on the erratic pacing train again. "How can I forget…" My voice was too resolute, too loud and I realised my outburst could catch Max's attention. She was in my room, probably napping. "Kris I am very much part of this right now, so I don't think I can forget." I kept my voice down, hoping none of this had reached Max.

"I am sorry, okay. I am."

"Don’t be freaking sorry, Kris. But don’t say I should forget. Would you?”

“Vic, my dear, you do understand such a question is completely out of place?”

Maybe she was right, but it pretty much didn’t matter at all. “Whether you like it or not, I am not gonna pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t. I’m not like that.”

“Okay, fine.” Kris pulled out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and unlocked the screen. “Do you know this place?” She showed me her recent google search.

“No.”

“Meet me there tomorrow at 3pm. And please, don’t tell anyone.”

“Who would I tell, Kris?”

“I dunno,” she rolled her eyes. “Like your girlfriend, Max.? Perhaps. You remember you have one, doncha?”

“I’m not gonna tell. At least, not now. She… Max is a bit shut down because of Arcadia. But you know that.” As I said that, I felt a sudden urge to be close to Max. No matter if she was sleeping, being buried in my book of Shakespeare’s sonnets or binge-watching the Love Island hardly realising, I was there with her. “So tomorrow, then.” I gave Kris a small smile, but before I could leave the bathroom, she threw her arms around me.

“Victoria…” Her grip was massively huge, as if clinging to me for dear life. Her slender fingers grasped at me, her lone anchor to sanity. Her body was shaking, fearful of the fierce undertow she was sure would come at any moment. Her voice trembled, and I felt her leaning into me in more ways than just physically. She was depending on me to make sturdy her entire being, not just her body. The solidity and conviction of her actions and decisions from here on out would depend on me. For the first time in an hour, she cracked. The whole thing did stir up her emotions, after all. That was why I couldn’t just back out.

“It’s alright, Kris. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” I stroked her back reassuringly despite having zero experience with a situation like this.

* * *

**Victoria Chase**

**Wednesday, October 21, Year 2, Day 402**

“It can be ranging from emotional detachment from immediate surroundings to severe disconnection from physical and emotional experiences,” Professor Janet explained. “But the major characteristic of all dissociative phenomena involves a detachment from reality, rather than loss of reality as in psychosis.” He explained.

“Dissociation is correlated with a history of trauma and it is no rare occurrence that witnesses and victims of crime experience some level of dissociation according to the trauma they have been through.”

I watched Max, who was absolutely uninterested in what was going on around us. Instead of making notes, she was sketching something. If I wanted to feel scientific, I would say she was detached from her immediate surroundings. Dissociated.

Was I too melodramatic considering this? It was two weeks since the great lead had turned into a huge disappointment. _Scarlett Johansson_ wasn’t the girl’s real name. It was pointless to follow this clue. Nothing that we had found out so far steered us any closer to Eliot. Not to mention the scene Max’s mum had created had made everyone cringe. Even the big stone block, Max’s training officer Mick. I would like to support Max, but talking shit about your girlfriend's parents was nothing but lame. The only option that had been left to me was lending an ear. Which I had gladly offered. But she had claimed there was nothing much to talk about. Max had also decided it would be for the best to wait until we have permission to check Chloe’s file. _Chasing a ghost through the country is like trying to put your hands around water._ She had said.

I understood her caution. Having high expectations for something that eventually ended badly is sure to break a lot of spirits. I personally had been a victim of such a disappointment more than once. I had learned that it was more and more difficult to hop back on the horse after every new setback.

So, I really praised Max’s decision to slow down. But that didn’t take away my regret over being unable to do more. But fortunately, despite our relationship being quite new in the grand scheme of things, we had in that brief length of time been able to sync up our own perspectives and interpretations of life, and even if we couldn’t formally express it to one another, I was always left with the reassurance we could be seeing the world in front of us with a common understanding, almost like through the same set of eyes. Being silent or pensive around each other didn’t have to make us feel uncomfortable.

Max has been like that occasionally in these last couple of days, but it didn’t feel like she was dissociating. Until yesterday. I didn’t even remember what absolutely out of place excuse she had used for why she couldn’t stay the night. And the kiss she had given to me this morning had all the cumulative passion displayed by two clearly straight actresses who got shoehorned into a lesbian romance angle just to spice up ratings for their TV drama during sweeps week.

And that Kristine thing wasn’t helping either to enhance my calmness. It was awfully out of character for her. And since I had been sucked into that vortex, now It was as much my business as it was hers. I wished I could talk about it with someone. I couldn’t. Only thinking about the consequences of the whole situation made me faint.

“Emotional detachment can often be the only way of coping with anxiety.” Professor Janet gave me just the right solution for my troubles. “ This coping strategy, also known as emotion focused-coping, is employed by avoiding certain situations that might trigger anxiety.” Or maybe not. “Emotional detachment may be a temporary reaction to a stressful situation or a chronic condition such as depersonalisation-derealisation disorder.” He concluded.

No, emotional detachment didn’t seem like a solution for Kristine or me. But what if it was a solution for Max?

“Next class in two weeks,” Professor Janet accentuated, “every one of you will be ready to deal with dissociative victims or witnesses of crime. I’ll bring figurants. The quick quiz will decide who’s going to lead the interrogation. The rest will observe. All of you will write your semestral papers about how successful or unsuccessful the interrogation was. It’s gonna be fun. Or not. See you in two weeks.”

Now it sounded like the most distant future. With these once per two weeks classes combined with being a part of the real patrol, it wasn’t a piece of cake to stay in touch with everything. To be focused when everything seemed fragmented. But I guessed that was the point. To push us to our limits. To stay sane despite so many things around coming out as insane.

Though I bet none of the corps' bright future had been trying to find a murderer alongside their studies as Max has been doing. Although some were dealing with their own unpredictable circumstances.

I glanced at Kristine. There was no sign of discomfort on her focused face. She was finishing her _body painting_ on Warren’s forearm while Dana gave her instruction on what else should be added. I had looked at Kris a million times before. But since Saturday, everything has been different.

I closed my eyes to settle down, to take a deep breath while catching a hint of Max’s scent. Which reminded me what my number one priority was. And when I opened them, another token lied right in front of me. 

* * *

**Max Caulfield**

**Wednesday, October 21, Year 2, Day 402**

The lecture was on-going for a good fifty minutes, but I hadn’t made a single note. I could afford to slack a bit because we shared this lecture with another 30 candidates for a regular detective program. Therefore, I wasn’t in the line of sight of our Professor. No notes, yet then, but my splendid sketch of Victoria’s undead rogue, the character from Scrolls of war, was almost finished. In those three months last Spring we had played the game together so much I remembered every detail of him. I had used to do this a lot in the past. Engage my brain into something that erased the unwelcome reality. I guessed somewhere in my room back in Arcadia I still had zillions of these sketches I had created through my high school classes after Chloe had died. Power Rangers fighting Mesogog, Haalani Basin in Nagrand or gates of Oblivion.

I guess I could draw Victoria’s portrait as well, without even looking at her. Because now, unlike the last Spring, I could spend as much time with her as I would like in reality, not only in the virtual world of Scrolls of war. I could close my eyes and recollect every little detail of her face, of her smile, of her forehead wrinkles when she was too focused.

But I did not wish for that. I wished for remembering those times in the last May.

While polishing Victoria’s undead rogue double blades, I was thinking about yesterday, how I was trying to convince myself it hadn’t affected me. That there must have been some rational explanation for all those little things. The situations that didn’t mean anything when standing alone, but together they could bring a monstrous picture.

“It can be ranging from emotional detachment from immediate surroundings to severe disconnection from physical and emotional experiences.” The well-known expert in the field of psychology Pierre Janet, who also happened to be our Professor, established what I had known for years. “But the major characteristic of all dissociative phenomena involves a detachment from reality, rather than loss of reality as in psychosis.”

Good news then, I wasn’t a psycho, was I?

Finding out that the lead at the Regional Resident Registry was going nowhere had left me gutted. Mum’s theatrical stunt only added to my misery. Yet Victoria had been everything I needed at the moment. Present but not too pushy, caring but not too coddling. She had been right next to me, respecting the pace I wanted to follow in order to deal with the situation. Yes, it was of utmost importance that the debacle won’t turn me into being dissociative again.

And just when I had started to feel I was going back to normal, too many unnormal things had begun to happen. 

Four days ago, Victoria had just gone to pee, leaving me in her room with Love Island binge-watching. I hadn’t even realised that evening, just a day after that, she had been gone for almost two hours. And all of this time she had spent in the bathroom with Kristine. 

Three days ago, she had cancelled our lunch because she had a dentist appointment she had forgotten about. On freaking Sunday. Again, it had shown Kristine had been with her all the time.

Two days ago, I had finally admitted that their conversation had abruptly ceased every time I joined in.

And yesterday I was supposed to spend the night at Victoria’s, but she hadn’t even been home when I arrived. The only welcome I had gotten had been a jittery Kristine. She had started to ramble about how very sorry she is about taking Victoria from me. And then Victoria had finally come back home, and the worst-case scenario popped up in my head. So, I just mumbled some apology and dashed out. I couldn’t stay with them for another second.

Victoria had called me right after, but I told her my phone was dead and the charger broken, and I had left it off for the whole night. I had taken Stilnox and hoped that sleep would crush all conspiracy theories in my head.

I had felt better in the morning, but now I very much understood that sleeping pills and dissociation is a temporary fix, not the answer. I had to talk to Victoria. She would never cheat on me, would she? She wasn’t that kind of person.

But only a couple of weeks ago, I had told her sex was just sex, and it didn’t mean anything. What if this was her fix for my detached attitude? Because let’s be honest. I wasn’t an ideal girlfriend. I was a broken instrument that too often needed to be repaired, wasn’t I?

_Damn it, Max! This is exactly the attitude your mum desires for you to have. To lure you back into Arcadia._

I finished the sketch of Victoria’s undead rouge at once and passed it to her with a note.

_  
_

It was a joke. An offer for the truce. Or more like reconciliation. And the proof I wasn’t a lake of sorrow, anymore.

I had ghosted Victoria yesterday because I had fallen for an idea she had fooled around with Kris. This morning I had barely kissed her. Victoria’s stretched neck muscles and her nervous eyes flickering towards me too often proved she was anything but cool about it. I wasn’t cool about her having a quickie with Kris either.

Would I become a victim of dissociation if I decided it couldn’t happen? That Victoria wouldn’t do that, despite so many things suggesting she did?

She rolled the paper with my amazing creation and snuck it into her signature Burberry Title Bag, polished beige leather with a checkered pattern of red and navy, accented rockstud detailing the colour of champagne diamonds. She dragged me out of the classroom. We landed in the first spot which was at least a tiny bit secluded, a nook behind the vending machine, and she pressed her lips to mine. Softly, hesitantly.

There was no greed behind her action. It was a chain of small, delicious kisses, slow and tentative, yet incredibly sweet. I felt like thirteen years old experiencing the first love, so innocent and pure, the one you remember forever. And no love ever will compare to it in a sense.

“Oh, Max. I am so happy you’re fine. That we are fine. You got me worried.” She breathed.

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t.” Oh, Gawd, I would rather stick a rusty nail into my thigh than make Victoria unsettled, but… “But… but…”

“Just tell me, please, freckles.” She let her hand caress my cheek with the utmost tenderness. “You can tell me anything.”

And then I had no doubt Victoria hadn’t cheated on me. That she would never. Still, I couldn’t keep that lightly masochistic part of me silent. “Is something going on between you and Kristine? I mean she…, you… on Sunday…”

“Oh, Max.” She shook her head, and I was utterly mad with myself for how devastated my question made her look. “Kris is pregnant.”

“Wowser.”

“I found out by accident four days ago and she almost at once found out that I found out, and all of a sudden, I was her only confidant.”

Obviously, Kris was in a difficult situation now. Yet, one wave of relief after another was running over me. And made me wish for more of Victoria’s kisses. Not so innocent anymore. “You’re pretty capable,” I teased. “Outstanding in many ways, but I do not suppose you miraculously gained an ability to make babies.”

“Max!” Victoria laughed, and her nose crinkled in that ever so subtle and adorable way, like she just sniffed the freshly laundered sheets after waking from a soothing afternoon nap, and the good spirit was restored once again.

“So who’s the father then? If not you.”

“Kris won’t say. Zach is my bet. But she obviously wants to be a mysterious bitch about it.”

“Yeah, that’s totally Kristine.” Damn it. Only now had I connected all dots properly and understood why Victoria had been acting strange these couple of days. It must have drained her to keep such a secret. But The solution was just right around the corner, right? “I guess it doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s not like she’s gonna keep the baby.”

“She’s gonna,” Victoria spoke in all seriousness.

“Bonkers.”

_But why_. This question popped up in my mind instantly. Why people have kids when they have no clue how to deal with them. But Kris, as a mother, wasn’t the image I saw, anymore. My own mum was.

* * *

**Max Caulfield**

**Sunday, November 1, Year 2, Day 413**

Victoria paused the movie. A quick moment of silence was cut with a retching sound coming from the bathroom. Before more disturbing noises could be heard, Dana took control of the remote and started the movie up again.

“Don’t do that. Do you think she’s doing that for show?”

“I was worried, okay. She’s been there for ten minutes.” Victoria snapped.

“Definitely not because she wishes for company. You want somebody watching while you puke?” Dana shouted back.

This whole situation with Kristine’s pregnancy was getting absolutely out of control. It had been three weeks since she had found out and subsequently decided she is ready to be a mother. According to Victoria, Kris hadn’t intended to share the news with anyone. But I guess this is not something one can hide from people who care.

“Guys,” I made my presence known before another round of bickering could start. “I need to tell you something. I hate Armageddon. I mean it’s a bunch of dirty blokes digging into some asteroid. Tell me about one lesbian who would enjoy the movie?” Both Dana and Victoria stared at me in awe. Yeah, dislike for Armageddon definitely wasn’t as dire problem as the whole mess around Kris but that’s exactly why I brought it up. “See, you can‘t come up with a single one. I was right, then.”

“I don’t like the movie either, and I’m straight,” Dana admitted. “What about Holland’s Next Top Model?” She glanced at Victoria, not at me.

“Okay. But the old sessions with Daphne Deckers?”

“Sure,” Dana confirmed, and Victoria found it immediately, HNTM was right on the top of her favourites.

“I’m sorry about being a bitch,” she said after Daphne and other judges welcomed the new candidates for Holland's next top model.

“I wasn’t the nicest, either,” Dana replied, not looking at Victoria but instead inspecting her manicure.

It sounded like the peace was restored. At the same time, nothing had been settled, though.

To paint you a picture: It had been three weeks since Victoria learned of the positive pregnancy test and involuntarily became part of this secret. All the hushed whispers almost had made me nuts thinking she and Kris had an affair and were meeting in secret. But Victoria had only accompanied Kris to the Clinic. While there, Kristine had changed her mind about abortion and decided to keep the baby.

When seeing me freaking out, Victoria had revealed the truth to me. I had sworn to keep my lips sealed, and for a moment, it all worked. Actually, my concern for Victoria, who had been exhausted by being concerned about Kris, her health and her future helped me forget about my own issues with mum and Chloe’s case.

But how long can one hide the pregnancy? Two weeks and three days was an answer to this particular case.

Yeah, the other day in the morning we had been sitting in the class waiting for the lecture to start. Nothing unusual, regular chit-chats and joking. Until Warren had arrived with his pungent garlic bread just freshly taken out of the furnace in the bakery. Imagine the smell. All the colour drained from Kristine’s face and she barely reached the bathroom in time.

Dana had made a casual comment about how unfair it is that women on their period react badly to various intense scents. And when pregnant, they had to fight against hormones and intolerance to many marvellous ingredients for the whole nine months, not only once a month.

I guess if the room hadn’t been full of future elite police officers, no brain would’ve started to process such an innocent rambling. But when it had been out, we all had done.

I had been honoured to find out a lot of exciting things about my beautiful girlfriend. One had been the fact she was great at hiding her emotions. But just from people who didn’t matter to her. But when she cared about someone, it didn’t work at all.

When Zach had looked at her, with dread in his eyes, she hadn’t had to say anything. The answer had been just right there.

And maybe you’re asking why Zach would be suspicious about Kristine’s pregnancy. Well, after she had made a decision to keep the baby, she had broken up with him right away. Well, not broken up really. She had just said it had been great while it had lasted, but she sought something more serious, and they both knew it wasn’t going to happen between them. Zach definitely hadn’t planned to have a picket fence and two dogs with Kristine, so he had moved on. Even when the whole explanation had seemed odd to him.

Warren had told me.

Zach might be many things, but he wasn’t stupid. He had put two and two together, what with the sudden break-up and morning sickness because of offensive odours, and confronted Kristine later that day. From what Victoria had explained to me, Kris had come clean. She had told Zach she was keeping the baby, and she neither did expect anything from him, nor she would ask for it.

Zach hadn’t felt as enthusiastic about Kris having his baby as she did. To put it mildly.

The only not so disastrous outcome of that day had been that Drew could still live in a world where ignorance was bliss. Because he had come late and hadn’t witnessed the garlic bread incident. He also wasn’t hanging out with us anymore, probably according to the promise he had made to his current girlfriend, the one his mother approved of.

So Zach wasn’t greatly supportive of Kris’ decision but rather kinda dissociated from it, hoping Victoria could convince her to change her mind. Trevor, on the other hand, had shown an excess of emotions. He had his experiences being raised by a single parent and didn’t approve of such a decision.

Kristine was the only one who had kept her cool, refusing to discuss it anymore with Zach or anyone else. Yet the rift had been created. Between Trevor and Dana and between Zach and Victoria. And while Dana was fully supporting Kristine’s decision to become a mother, Trevor took Zach’s side claiming it’s not only the woman’s decision to make. Zach had been trying to convince Victoria to change Kris’s mind because he wasn’t parent material. It would be extremely unfair to the kid to not have a proper father. Victoria tried. Unfortunately, she knew nothing could change Kris' mind, once she had made a decision.

And there was poor Warren who wasn’t on anybody’s side. He just wanted back the old times when we all had been having lunch together and joking about the boring girl sitting at the next table.

So while everyone was a bit unsettled recently, and got riled up quickly, something about Kris’ behaviour had been the oddest sort of odd. It was like she was pulling strings from behind and actually the whole situation weirdly fit in her plan.

And I kinda understood why she was keeping this situation on-going, but it was affecting everyone. Especially Victoria, who had been put between a rock and a hard place. And I couldn’t stand that anymore.

“It’s Drew’s.” I must have said. It was so strange no one thought about this. And I also find it unfortunate no one had guts to tell him Kris was pregnant.

“What did you say, freckles?” Victoria’s hand ruffled my hair softly.

“Drew is the father, not Zach.” I sat up meeting Dana’s and Victoria’s astonished looks. “Can you see, how cool Kristine is about everything? It’s convenient for her that everyone believes it’s Zach. And when Drew finds out, it will definitely be over between them. Who would be okay that a woman he loves is keeping another man’s baby? None of them can bury what is between them, even when they are trying. But this situation can. Except it’s not true. And this game has gone too far, already.”

“You’re right about almost everything, Max.” All of our heads turned, seeing Kristine, who had probably been standing behind the couch for a while. “But it’s not a game for me. I want the baby. I have my own place. I am mature enough; my father, yes Sean Prescott, promised to support me. I don’t need Drew. If I told him it’s his, he would feel obligated to be a father. And I don’t want that. Besides, I am going to love this baby with everything I have. And its love for me would not have any conditions, any ifs and buts. This kid would not leave one day because something better appears at sight.”

“And what if you fail? What if your best intentions still ruin your kid? And what if this kid starts to slowly hate you because your twisted care would be too much? Have you given this scenario a thought, too?” Kristine had never shown any indication she desired to be a mother. Why would everything change now? “There is a reason why Zach doesn’t want to be a father, don’t you think? There is a reason why Trevor is against the possibility where it’s a woman alone making a decision, where both should. Our parents failed and don’t even have guts to admit it.”

I was unstoppable. All this had been growing in me for a very long time, and I couldn’t hold it anymore. Kristine’s intention might be pure, but she needed to know she was acting nothing but selfish.

“Don’t become a parent,” I continued, “only because you yearn to be loved. I am not telling you to never have a kid, no matter what I think about it. What I’m telling you is to have in mind the possibility you can fail. And once you fail your kid, there is no going back. No second chance. Kris, now I am crossed with my mum. And I see no way how it can change. And it’s awfully unfair to both of us.”

When I was done, I didn’t feel any relief to have it out of my chest. I was just sad. Because the always lively Kristine was staring at me muted. A small tear sliding down her cheek.

„I love you, Kris, but being a mother is not only about loving the kid.“

I guess I was the least affectionate person I knew. I kept my personal space, didn’t like people too close to me. People who weren’t Victoria anyway. Her, I needed. But at this very moment, I didn’t think twice about approaching Kristine and hugging her.

“Gosh, Chase. Why did you bring her to my house?” She spoke in between sobs, but her voice wasn’t preachy rather considerate. “Now there are two people in here who are cleverer than me.” Kris joked.

“What do you mean, only two?” Said, Dana, who alongside Victoria joined our group hug.

As a sign of the good spirit being restored, Kris took an energetic breath to say something witty, but the doorbell resounded.

“Are we expecting someone?” Victoria wondered. Sunday afternoon wasn’t the time for a postman or any officialities. Although I was sure who it was.

“It’s Warren. I invited him.” I came clean and met the wary looks of my companions. “He suffers being caught in the middle of our petty fights,” I explained and moved towards the main door to buzz him inside the building. “Besides he’s fun, and we need his contagious good mood. I let the door open so he could walk in when arriving at our floor. “And he’s the only one among us, who doesn’t have some childhood and teenage issues and his parents are super cool. Maybe you can talk to him a bit Kris, to realise why a kid needs both parents.”

Before Kris could react, Warren marched in carrying two huge paper bags. “Willy Wonka ain’t got shit on me!” He put them on the coffee table. “I have space cakes, Oliebols,” and start to pick out one goodie after another. “Wasabi Lay's. You can just call me Candyman. Like that Christina Aguilera song.”

Victoria looked at him in puzzlement. “Warren, do you even know what that song is about?”

Warren titled his head quizzically. “Distribution tactics for confectionary?”

“Dibs on those chips!” Kristine snatched the chips at once. To Dana’s disapproval.

“Also… Salty liquorice,” Warren grinned. “It’s truly the Alec of the Baldwin liquorice family.” Kristine occupied with opening the wasabi's pack was at a bit of a disadvantage, so now Dana had her chance and took the item first. But hearing about Salty Liquorice, the chips were long forgotten and ended on the floor.

“It should be mine,” Kris demanded, but Dana ran away from her.

“Oh, you have your Wasabi Lay's. This belongs to me now.”

“I am pregnant. I deserve whatever my body requires.” Kris tried to catch her.

“Jesus Christ, Kris. You were throwing up for twenty minutes. What do you think salty liquorice is gonna do to your stomach?”

“First,” Kris pointed her forefinger as her signature gesture. “My body, my rules. Second, you either give to me Ward, or I take it from your dead body.”

“You’re welcome to try.” Dana didn’t plan to go down easily, while I subtly approached Warren and reached for his hand.

“Thank you,” I whispered and squeezed it.

“You mean for keeping a secret stash of salty liquorice just so they don’t have to fight to the death?”

“What else you got in that bag of tricks, Inspector Gadget?” I asked him with an amused grin.

“I really should have a utility belt in order for maximum efficiency, no?” He smiled, and because of that, I knew the balance within our group is gonna be restored soon.

* * *

Almost asleep, I sensed Victoria sneaking into the sheets, spooning me instantly. Dana had fallen asleep first as always and had been carried to Kris’ bed. By now everyone’s limbs had felt leaden and the yawns extended longer and longer. After we finished the HNTM marathon, Victoria and Kristine had offered Warren to stay on the couch for the night. But it seemed helping him with making the couch into a sleeping place probably prolonged the lingering talk. “You were amazing today. You always are.” Victoria kissed my temple and let me settle deeper into her embrace. “Once Kris will clear things up with Zach and Drew, I believe we all will be good again. Not right away, but it’ll settle. Because of you, freckles.”

“I—I” I agreed now things are gonna settle. But I didn’t deserve all the credit. “I just… you were so worn-out. I just wanted you to feel better again. I did it for you, not for Kris or Warren or anyone else. Which was actually pretty selfish.”

Yeah, my plan went well, it seemed because after tonight Kris decided to be honest with Zach and Drew and to make a decision that was not only hers but also that of the father of her baby and respect his wishes. And I cared about everyone a lot. Warren, Dana, Trevor, Kris, Zach, Drew. But Victoria was my number one priority. If she wasn’t down, would I have set things in motion as well? I didn’t think so.

“At the end of the day, does it matter? Didn’t it work for all of us?” Victoria didn’t ask, actually. But gave me an answer. “As the wise person said, who is not me, no man is an island entire of itself. Every man is a piece of continent. A part of main. If the clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is less. As well as if a promontory were. As well as any manor of thy friend's. Or of thine own were. Any man's suffering diminishes us, because we are involved in mankind. And you showed us today.”

She was right, John Donne had been right as well. For the first time I wasn’t an island. I was part of _Europe._ I missed mum. But at the moment I couldn’t imagine forgiving her for she had tried so hard to make me an Island. When being part of the continent was this amazing. And I didn’t even know, yet, what I was about to find out _four weeks later._

* * *

_...four weeks later_

**Victoria Chase**

**Wednesday, December 2, Year 2, Day 439**

**11:23 pm, Arcadia, Caulfield’s House**

Max slammed shut the door of Jamie’s car in a way that would probably make him scream in pain. Even if he almost certainly understood considering the situation. It was close to midnight, but behind one of the windows to Max’s parents' house, there still was a dim light on.

She practically kicked open the gate and dashed along the driveway, straight to the main door. After a while of nervous digging through all of her pockets, she resigned from finding the keys and started with heavy knocking on the door.

I desperately wanted to do something that would cool her head. But the truth was, what we had found out today, while finally able to check Chloe’s case file was horrendous.

Answering the door was a sleepy guy in a worn Nirvana t-shirt and a slightly untamed stubble beard, presumably Mr Caulfied, with Mrs Caulfield right behind him. Max didn’t bother with an introduction.

“You helped to cover a murder.” She pointed at her mother exuding a raw, vibrant wave of rage.

“I did. “Mrs Caulfield didn’t bother with playing games and came clean instantly. That stunned all of us.

“Vanessa!” Mr Caulfield exclaimed utterly shocked.

“How could you do that, mum?” Suddenly Max’s anger was gone. What left in her voice was just unbearable sadness. “Chloe was my friend.”

“And I am your mother. I did what I had to. You can judge me. But one day you might raise your own daughter, maybe together with this young lady.” Mrs Caulfield looked at me, definitely remembering our first encounter couple of weeks ago. “So, Maxine, once you know what it’s like to hold your own kid in your arms when she suffers from a fever after waking in the middle of the night because of a terrible nightmare. Once you know how it is to think about her all day after you sent her to school. To think about if some bully is harassing her, because she’s too shy, or too different. Maybe then you understand.”

“Mum,” every one of Max’s suppressed emotions came out. I didn’t even know when I reached for her hand, but soon I was squeezing it tightly. Her voice cracking, her tears unstoppable. “I need to understand now. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not worry, everything is going to be explained in details in the next chapter. Originally 28 and 29 were just one chapter, but it was too massive and had more than 30 pages. So, the split was the only option (and a lot of cuts, too). And maybe I also wanted to be a mysterious bitch :D and bring a cliff-hanger again. 
> 
> Anyway, this is in fact, the first chapter that is not primarily focused on Max or Victoria. And I hope you forgive me that I make them a B plot in this one, and all will make sense eventually. Actually, I foreshadowed Kris’ pregnancy in Chapter 19. I am foreshadowing a lot of things, if you feel like a detective 😉
> 
> Also, I would very much like to thank JBQ. I had been struggling for weeks with how to deal with Chloe’s case. JBQ’s suggestion about what usually goes wrong according to unsuccessful investigations or rigged cases gave me this brilliant idea of connecting it with another sub-plot. You have my thanks, JBQ and if you ever around Prague, also a beer on me.
> 
> So better buckle up guys, some truth about Chloe’s murder is finally coming to light, and it’s going to be nasty.
> 
> Oh, and last but not least, I am so happy to have michaely around. Some epic stuff became a part of this chapter because of that. Actually, michaely’s additions are my most favourite parts of the whole thing. Hugs and kisses to you, mate 😊


End file.
